


Aftermath

by Slaymesoftly



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-26
Updated: 2013-04-27
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:51:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 56,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slaymesoftly/pseuds/Slaymesoftly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Buffy and Spike find themselves dealing with some unexpected residual effects from Willow's spell. To their surprise, those feelings don't go away when the spell is cleared up.   Can an unsoulled and eventually unchipped vampire and Heaven's Chosen One be in a relationship? How would everyone else feel about that? Some Initiative bashing, and Xander is a jerk for awhile, but he gets over it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written - one chapter at a time - in response to the weekly prompts at Taming the Muse. Which may have resulted in some odd phrases or words here and there.... I think they all work okay and don't stand out like too many sore thumbs - but feel free to try to guess which word or words in a chapter are the ones that were there to meet the prompt. :) Not every prompt is specifically stated, though. Sometimes the chapter just deals with whatever the prompt was, rather than just using the word somewhere.
> 
> Planned to put it up in one fell swoop, but there are some formatting issues that will mean I'll have to do it a bit more slowly as I get the formatting fixed. It's been quite popular on other archives, so hopefully it will be worth the wait. :)

**Aftermath  
Chapter One**  
Buffy strolled through Sunnydale, relieved to be away from Spike and the constant reminders of their “engagement”. She shuddered as she remembered how they’d spent a whole day kissing and cuddling in the big chair.

_Who knew Spike, of all peop–vampires, could be so sweet and affectionate. I guess that’s why Drusilla stayed with him all those years. It was pretty amazing. In an ‘eww, it’s Spike’ kind of way._

Her hand went to her coat pocket and she unconsciously started fondling the heavy silver ring she found there. She tried to tell herself she was only keeping it until she could get it safely back to its owner, but her hand tightened around it at the thought of giving it back.

_He hasn’t asked for it yet. Maybe he doesn’t want it back? Or maybe it just isn’t important to him._

Her inappropriate thoughts about the vampire came to a sudden halt as she realized that she had wandered all the way into the area of the city where most of the harmless, human-seeming demons lived. As always happened when she passed by, the streets emptied quickly with adult demons grabbing their children and hustling them inside.

“Sheesh, you’d think I was the boogy-man,” she grumbled aloud as doors slammed ahead of her path.

“To them you _are_ the boogy-man, Slayer.”

“Spike!” Buffy whirled to face him, wondering why she hadn’t noticed that a vampire was sneaking up behind her.

“Where’d you come from? Why didn’t I feel you?”

He frowned at her.

“You should have. I’m an old vamp. You should be able to feel me even with all the distractions here.” He waved his arm around to encompass the neighborhood they were in. “You need to work on that, Slayer. Can’t have any old vampire slipping in behind you like that.”

“Maybe I just got used to you,” she muttered, trying to ignore the concern on his face. “What with all the sitting on your lap and... stuff.”

“Maybe.” He perked up, taking his hands from his pockets and smiling. “We’ll see once I get my head fixed. That would be a bit of all right if I could sneak up on you without you knowing I’m there.”

“I’d still kick your ass,” she said, smothering a tiny pang that he could still talk about killing her after all the time they’d spent together during the spell. “You’re not going to kill me, Spike. Get over it.”

Spike cocked his head and studied her face. She knew it had quickly hardened into a slayer’s determined glare, but his perceptive eyes had apparently caught something before it did.

“Didn’t say I was, luv,” he responded in the soft baritone that had rumbled in her ear so often recently. “I just said I could sneak up on you. Who knows? Might have just tried to steal a kiss.”

“Not funny.”

“No,” he sighed. “I suppose not.”

He fell into step beside her.

“So, where you goin’? Not exactly your part of town, is it?”  
Buffy shrugged. “I was just walking and thinking and I ended up here. Might as well hang out for a while and take a look around. See how many different kinds of demon I can remember.”

“Most of these are harmless, Slayer.” She thought she detected a trace of disappointment in his voice.

“I know that. Doesn’t mean that there aren’t some not-so-harmless ones hiding out here. Or some vamps, for that matter. They’d blend.”

No sooner had she spoken, than Buffy spotted one of the professors from Sunnydale U sitting on a bench, behind which were two drooling vampires. The woman was taking notes as various demons went by her, seemingly oblivious to the danger peering over her shoulder. When they spotted Buffy, the two vampires took off, startling the woman who’d had no idea they were even there.

“Professor Inkfell? What are you doing here?”

“Why, hello. Ms. Summers, is it? I could ask you the same question.”

Buffy stared back. “It’s not really safe here. For hum-uh, people who don’t belong in the neighborhood.”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. I’m just observing this neighborhood. It’s quite interesting. Such a mix of cultures and... races.” She looked around and sighed. “Although, I must say, there are not as many people to observe as there were a while ago. They all seem to have vanished.”

Spike snorted, ducking away when Buffy swatted at him.

“Well,” Buffy said brightly,” since they’ve all gone home, I guess you can stop observing and leave now.”

Before she could answer, two more vampires came down the street, halting abruptly when they saw Buffy with Spike.

“Un, Spike?” one of them called. “Do you have her, or does she have you?”

“Bit of both, mate. You’d best bugger off.”

Taking him at his word, the two vamps turned and fled down the nearest alley. 

Professor Inkfell’s eyes narrowed as she stared from Buffy to the fleeing vampires.

“Now that was interesting. Now that I think about it, the other people began disappearing just when you showed up, Ms. Summers. Why is that?”

She stared at Buffy, just the trace of a challenge in her voice.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Buffy sniffed. “But those two...” She turned to glare at Spike. “Why did you tell them to run?”

“I know them, pet. They live here because they’re harmless. They live on...” He hesitated, remembering the woman watching them so intently. “They, uh, they’re vegetarians,” he finished. “Harmless vegetarians.”

“Vegetarians? Vegetarian vam-“ Buffy also remembered their audience just in time, but Professor Inkfell seized on her comment.

“Oh my god! Were they vampires? I’ve been sitting here all night hoping to observe some vampires. Maybe I can catch up to them...”

She got to her feet and started to walk in the direction they had taken.

“Whoa, there, professor!” Buffy stepped in front of her. “You don’t want to be chasing after vamps. You should be running the other way.”

All pretense gone, the woman glared at Buffy.

“I _do_ want to chase them. That’s my whole purpose. To study vampires and other alternative cultures. I’m writing a book about the vampires and demons of Sunnydale. I _must_ study some real vampires, but I just can’t seem to ever find any.” She glared at Spike, who was coughing with his back to her, and obviously shaking with laughter. “What are you finding so amusing, young man? It’s a legitimate research project. I just need to see some real vampires up close.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and gave Spike a shove, which only served to make him laugh harder. “Not helping, Spike,” she hissed before turning back to the puzzled woman.

“Look, you can’t study real vampires up close. They’ll eat you. It’s what they do. Just stay away from them.”

“I’m sure once I’ve explained my situation—”

“Your situation is that you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Nonsense. I pose no threat to anyone. I’m simply studying their culture in order to do an etic report on them and how they relate to the culture around them.”

“They _feed_ off the ‘culture around them’. What don’t you get about that?”

“It’s obvious that you have some sort of adversarial relationship with these people—” “Demons!” Buffy broke in. Ignoring her, Professor Inkfell continued, “Perhaps your young man could help me out. He seems to be less biased against other cultures.” She beamed at Spike hopefully.

Controlling himself as best he could, Spike gave her a wink and a grin. “I think you could safely say that,” he agreed. “The Sl-Buffy and I don’t always see eye to eye about things.”

“It’s all right to call her ‘The Slayer’ in front of me,” Professor Inkfell said with a sideways sneer at Buffy. “I know what she is. She’s therefore incapable of taking a neutral position about these other cultures.”

“Demons!” Buffy almost screeched. “Vampires are demons. Are you stupid?”

Ignoring her, Professor Inkfell edged closer to Spike, putting one hand on his arm as she appealed to him.

“Surely you can introduce me to some of these aboriginal creatures? You do know some of them, don’t you?”

Giving her his most charming smile and allowing his eyes to gaze into hers warmly, he said, “I’m sure I could—urk!”

Buffy’s punch to his kidneys effectively cut him off before he could promise something she would have to stake him for. She fixed a steely gaze on the now-glaring professor and ordered, “Go. Back. To. Campus. Now.”

Giving Spike a sympathetic look, Professor Inkfell drew herself up and said, “That was quite abusive and unnecessary, young lady. I don’t care what you are, you have no right to treat your young man like that. He was only trying to help me.”

Shooting a now theatrically whimpering Spike a glare that spoke volumes about the conversation they were going to have when she had chased the professor back to the relative safety of USC Sunnydale's campus, Buffy pointed in that direction and said in her most authoritative “Slayer” voice: “Start now. I’m going to be watching you.”

“You haven’t heard the last of this,” the professor huffed as she nevertheless obeyed the instructions of the suddenly intimidating young woman.

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” Buffy muttered under her breath as she heard Spike start to laugh again. She watched until the woman had turned down the street that would take her out of the demon neighborhood, and then whirled on Spike, who was laughing so hard he could barely stand.

Hands on hips, Buffy did her best to glare him into silence, but she couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from twitching. Shaking her head, she tugged on his sleeve and began walking back the way they had come.

“Come on. I think the least my ‘young man’ could do is walk me back to Giles’ apartment.”

Slinging his arm over her shoulders and pulling her in for a squeeze that was over before she could object to it, he nodded and agreed.

“It’s the least I can do, luv. Wouldn’t do to leave my fiancée out here on her own, now, would it?”

Telling herself she hadn’t enjoyed the brief hug, Buffy sobered and said, “Speaking of that...” She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the ring, holding it towards him on the flat of her hand, but keeping her thumb through it.

He stared at it for a long minute, then took her hand in his and folded her fingers over it.  
“Why don’t you hang on to it for me, pet? Then I’ll always know where it is.” 

He kept his hand wrapped around hers until he felt her begin to pull away. Without a word, Buffy nodded and put her hand and the ring back in her pocket. They finished the walk back to Giles’ in a comfortable silence, broken only by the swish of Spike’s coat as he matched his strides to hers.


	2. Chapter Two - Neutered what?  And Chapter Three - the explanation...

**Chapter Two Neutered What?**

“She was what?”

“Studying them. She wants to write a paper or something about the ‘other cultures’ in Sunnydale.” Buffy rolled her eyes as she reported their encounter with Dr. Inkfell to Giles.

“Why doesn’t she just talk to those wankers that turned me into a bullock?” Spike growled. “They’ve done enough experiments on demons to fill two or three books.”

“I don’t think Dr. Walsh wants to share,” Willow said quietly from where she was staring at her computer screen.

“Dr. Walsh? Psych professor, Dr. Walsh? Our psych professor?”

Willow nodded and turned the laptop toward the room. To her surprise, the only one who actually came to look at it was Spike. He peered at the page and then smiled at Willow.

“Pretty impressive, there, Red. Is that witchcraft or the other kind of magic?”

“Other magic?” Buffy looked back and forth between them, her brows creased. 

Giles answered for Spike: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. Someone said that, although I am ashamed to admit that I don’t recall whom.”

“Arthur C. Clark,” Spike filled in.

Buffy’s eyes were as wide open as they could be without risking eyeball fallout.

“Ooookay. This is just scary. Spike and Giles – speaking the same language?”

As if suddenly remembering his big bad persona, Spike stepped away from the table and shook his head.

“Jus’ something I remembered,” he said quickly. “Probably ate a nerd at one time or something.”

Giles continued to stare at the vampire with narrowed eyes, bits and pieces of previous conversations and outbursts from Spike coming back to him. Vowing to look more closely into the history of William the Bloody once he had a chance, he turned to Willow.

“What have you found?”

“Well,” she said with a proud look at Spike, “ I was able to break into the University’s system and into the encrypted files. All of them.”

“Does that mean you can see grades and change them?” Buffy’s interest perked up, fading when Willow gave her a severe look.

“It does, but I won’t, so you just need to study, missy!”

“I knew that,” Buffy mumbled, giving a shocked Giles an apologetic shrug. “I was just asking...”

“Sure you were, Slayer.” 

Buffy shot Spike a murderous glare, which only made him grin, and then turned her attention back to Willow.

“Then what did you find?”

“Professor Walsh has a lot more going on than just a couple of freshman psych classes,” Willow began. “She’s in charge of something called “The Initiative”, which is located somewhere on campus, although I haven’t figured out just where yet....” She looked at Spike and almost rubbed her chin speculatively. “Maybe, if Spike can look at a map of the campus and we can figure out exactly where he got out...”

“What has this to do with that other woman’s foolish desire to study demons up close?”

“Oh, nothing, really. It’s just that, with all this secrecy and stuff, I doubt that Professor Walsh is talking about her experiments in the teachers’ lounge. Dr. Inkfell probably has no idea that someone else is studying demons—” She paused and gave Spike a sympathetic glance. “From a slightly different perspective, maybe...”

Spike snorted and shook his head.

“Yeah, those sadistic gits aren’t interested in demon ‘culture’. All they care about is what they can make you do, and what it takes to kill you.” He narrowed his eyes at the three humans staring at him with various expressions of mild dismay, if not quite sympathy. “This Professor Walsh, what does she look like? Kind of mannish? Nasty piece of work that can’t smile unless she’s torturing something?”

Before either Willow or Buffy could respond, Giles spoke up. “That would be her—quite the harridan, I would say.”

Buffy slumped down in the chair she and Spike had shared just a few days ago.

“Great! The only class I was really enjoying, and the professor turns out to be some secret mad scientist. Just my luck...”

Willow’s muffled giggle brought a glare from Buffy and puzzled frowns from the two Brits.

“Care to share, witch-woman?”

Ignoring Buffy’s glare, which really wasn’t all that intimidating, coming from someone who was also rolling her eyes, Willow said, “Buffy’s kinda dating the TA from that class. And he seems really close to Professor Walsh, so...”

Spike’s quiet growl went unnoticed by anyone except Buffy who gave him a questioning look. He shrugged and turned away, putting his hands in his pockets and trying to appear uninterested in the conversation.

“So, you know this young man outside of class?” Giles pursued, choosing to ignore the byplay between his slayer and the vampire. “What do you know about him?”

“Well...” Buffy thought hard. “He’s big, and very fit, and all his friends are too. He lives in a frat house with...with a bunch of other older looking guys who all have short haircuts and muscles, and... Crap!”

“Crap?”

Buffy went over to Spike and tugged on his arm until he turned around.

“Tell me again about how you got... taken. And how you got out. What did they look like?”  
“Overfed ninjas,” he growled. “Everybody I saw was either a lab rat or some kind of soldier.”

“Would you recognize one if you met him?”

“Wasn’t exactly taking names, pet,” he said, shaking his head. “Was more interested in getting out of there with all my parts intact.” He rubbed the scar on the back of his head and sighed. “Not that I seem to have made it with all of them intact.”

“If you had, Buffy would have staked you by now,” Giles pointed out mildly. “You should be grateful for your... um... status as a ‘bullock’.”

“Grateful!” Spike’s snarl split the air and had Buffy reaching for her stake. “Let someone cut off your balls and see how grateful you feel, Watcher.”

Buffy and Willow blanched.

“They cut off what?” Buffy squeaked.

“He is speaking metaphorically, Buffy,” Giles assured her. “At least I think he is...”

“Of course I am, you bloody pillock. If they actually had cut— I’d have staked myself by now.”

“I’m confused,” Buffy confessed. “Did they or didn’t they? And what has any of to do with being some kind of cow?”

Spike rolled his eyes and stomped to the door, holding it open and waiting for her to join him.

“I’ll explain it in small, one-syllable words, Slayer. While you show me where this house is that you seem to know so much about.”

Still frowning, Buffy followed him out the door. “We’ll come back with more information...I think,” she shouted over her shoulder as she saw Spike disappearing down the sidewalk and hurried to catch up with him.

 

“So. Cows. Balls cut off. Overfed ninjas. Spill.”

He shook his head. “A bullock is a neutered bull. I’m neutered; I can’t kill – can’t be a real vampire. Whatever they did to my head that makes it explode when I even think about hurting someone... It changed my life. I can’t be what I was.”

“A stone cold killer,” she said, her lips tight. “Pardon me while I don’t feel all that sorry for you.”

“Tell me, Slayer,” he said in a conversational tone, “how would you feel if you couldn’t defend yourself? If you were suddenly normal, or worse yet, unable to even fight back normally?”

Buffy remembered her Cruciamentum and how helpless she’d felt while under the influence of the drugs. She remembered her first contact with the Master and how he’d controlled her with a flick of his wrist. 

“Okay,” she said softly. “Point taken. You can’t defend yourself – but you can’t kill either. You can’t expect me to think that’s a bad thing!”

“Guess not,” he replied. “But since I can’t defend myself....”

“Is that why you came to me—us?”

“You’re the one whose job it is to protect the helpless, yeah?”

“Whatever, Spike. You’re not helpless. You could buy blood. You could get minions to kill for you. You don’t need me.”

He shrugged and slowed his march towards the campus.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, “but you were the first person I thought of. After I got over thinkin’ it was you what set me up, anyway.”

“Me? Why would you think I—”

“Moment of weakness, luv. Was watching you when they nabbed me. The last thing I saw before I got zapped, bagged and tagged was your pretty little face while you dusted some unsuspecting git that thought he’d found a meal. Thought maybe you’d been the bait that got me trapped.”

“That’s why you came to my dorm room – you were pissed off at me!”

“Was. Was going to do Red when it turned out you weren’t there, but that’s when I started to learn about my handicap. Ended up talking to her instead of biting her... and then the soldiers busted in and....” He turned to look at her. “And you kicked their arses and I got away.”

“I wasn’t trying to save you, you know. It was Willow I was trying to protect.”

“I know, but you helped me out anyway. Wouldn’t have done that if you’d been the one to set me up. Cleared my eyes, it did.”

Buffy made no comment, just pointing to the right in the direction of Fraternity row. Lowell House was at the end of the street, set off by itself some distance from the rest of the campus. They stopped in the shadow of a clump of trees and stared at it. She could see that Spike recognized it.

“So,” Spike said, tension making his voice quiver. “That’s where I got neutered?”

“We don’t know that for sure,” Buffy said quickly. “And could you please stop referring to it as ‘neutered’? Makes you sound like somebody’s dog.” She flushed, grateful for the darkness as she continued under her breath, “And I know damn good and well you aren’t actually ‘neutered’.”

His rich chuckle sounded right in her ear as he whispered, “Guess you do at that, pet. Didn’t think you’d want to admit you noticed.”

“Hard to miss something that big poking me in the butt all night.” No sooner had the words left her mouth, than Buffy groaned and clapped her hand over it. “Oh God, I didn’t really say that out loud, did I?”

Before the laughing vampire could prolong the embarrassing conversation, Buffy grabbed his sleeve and dragged him towards the seemingly empty house.

“Come on, we’ve got ninjas to spy on.”

“Right behind you, pet,” he said, pressing against her back.

“No poking.”

He leaned down and whispered, “Not even a little poke? What if I can’t help it?”

“I have one word for you, Spike—neutered.”

“Right. No poking. Got it.” He straightened up and soundlessly followed her into the shadows around the quiet house.

 

**Chapter Three**

They circled the large building twice, pausing to peer in and listen at windows that were well shielded by bushes. After getting one too many scratches on her face, and ripping her good jacket, Buffy refused to creep behind any more thorny bushes, insisting in a low whisper that they were obviously demonic. Spike’s soft chuckle and whispered “wimp” did nothing to improve her attitude.

“Fine,” she hissed. “You’re the one with the leather coat protecting his skin. You creep up to the next set of windows. You can hear better than I can anyway.”

Leaving Buffy to crouch beside a rain barrel against the wall, Spike slipped silently between the bushes and another slightly open window. She watched him disappear into the shadows, making no sound as he brushed past the leaves, and wondered, not for the first time, how such an obviously deadly predator hadn’t been able to kill her yet. 

A low growl was her only warning that the vampire was once more at her side.

“Did you—” Her question was cut off when Spike’s hand went across her mouth and his “shhh” hissed in her ear. When she froze, he lifted his coat over his head and pressed her back and down, effectively making them one large black shadow among other large black shadows. With luck, no one would notice the lack of twigs and leaves.

“I’m telling you, Finn, the sensors are picking up movement. Something is out here.”

“Well we’ve done a complete circuit, and all we’ve found is a hungry raccoon. There’s nothing else here.” There was the sound of someone being thumped on the back, then Riley’s voice continued. “Besides, who or what would be stupid enough to try to break into a house protected by sensors and full of armed men with bad attitudes?”

“Point,” the other man admitted, as the voices moved away. “But don’t forget, not that many people know we’ve got sensors; or that we’re armed. It’s not like Maggie wants it to be common knowledge.”

Spike and Buffy remained crouched against the wall, his coat providing both camouflage and shelter from the soft rain that was beginning to fall. Gradually they both straightened up, still pressed against the wall and, in Buffy’s case, holding her breath. When Spike relaxed his immobile body and stood up completely straight, she risked a quick breath.

“Can you still hear them?”

He shook his head. “I can hear their voices, but they’ve gone inside and I can’t catch what they’re—” He stopped talking, dropping his hands to her shoulders to keep her still while he listened. When he finally relaxed again, he left his hands on her shoulders, still using his coat to shield them both. 

“Okay, Slayer,” he said, still whispering. His cool breath in her ear made Buffy shiver, which she chose to blame on the rain rather than Spike’s proximity. “They’ve gone.”

“Gone where?”

“Don’t bloody know, do I?” His frustration was clear and Buffy tried to curb her normal impatience.

“Why not? Can’t you hear them anymore?”

“No. They went into the middle of the building, and then they just disappeared. The only thing I could hear was machinery running.”

“Machinery?”

“Yeah, Like... like a lift....” He dropped his hands from her shoulders and smacked them together. “That’s it! I was underground – escaped through a tunnel. That chamber of horrors is underneath this place.”

“There’s an army base under a frat house?” Buffy’s disbelief was clear.

“Soldiers, laboratories, don’t know what all. That’s where I was,” he insisted, pointing across the lawn to the open space where she’d found him tearing at the sod only a few days ago. “A house that has sensors, don’t forget, and guards that come out to see what’s tripping them. All is not what it seems here, Slayer.”

“I guess not,” she reluctantly agreed, remembering the party she’d attended only a few weeks ago and all the “fraternity boys” she’d met with short, military haircuts and beepers.

Buffy shivered again as Spike moved away and his duster was no longer keeping the rain off. Without comment, he took off the coat and draped it over her shoulders, growling when she almost dropped it in surprise.

“What the—”

“Cold won’t bother me,” he said gruffly. “Just keep it on till we get back to... What are we going back to?” he said. “It’s getting late. Watcher’s liable to be asleep by now.”

Buffy nodded and pulled the coat around her more tightly. It was much too long, and Spike’s body hadn’t warmed it, but it did keep her dry, so she gave him a grateful smile.

“We should go fast,” she announced unnecessarily. “When we move we’re going to trip those sensors again.”

“Ready whenever you are, pet,” he agreed. “Just tell me which way to run.”

“My dorm is probably the closest place. Let’s head there. It’s that way,” she added, pointing towards the main campus.

“I know where it is, Slayer.”  
“Oh, right. You’ve already been there. And Willow invited you in.”

“Right hospitable, the witch is,” he said, smiling in the dark at the irritated tone of her voice.

“Pretty dumb, is what she is,” Buffy grumbled back. “Nobody who grew up in Sunnydale should—”

She stopped when Spike put a hand to her lips, pressing his fingers against them gently.

“Hear machinery again. Let’s argue about this later.”

Without reply, Buffy stepped away from the building and began darting from shadow to shadow until they were safely away and could take off running in a straight line. By the time lights came on in Lowell House, and raised voices were audible to Spike’s ears, they were far enough away that they couldn’t be seen or heard by anyone willing to venture out into the rain to see what had again tripped the sensors.

As soon as it seemed safe to do so, Buffy slowed down. While the long coat had protected her torso from the worst of the rain, it had kept wrapping itself around her legs and threatening to trip her as she tried to keep up with the racing vampire. She was now soaked from the knees down and her hair was plastered to her head. She watched as Spike slowed and turned to look for her.

“What’s taking you so long?”

“Your coat is trying to make me fall down,” she grumbled, pulling it around more tightly. “I can’t run in it.”

“It is a bit big on you,” he said, cocking his head. “That other sl—you know what? We should just get you inside where you can dry off and get warm.”

Buffy trudged toward her dorm, her head down and shoulders hunched. She almost tripped over the threshold when she reached the main entrance, ducking under Spike’s arm as he held the door and sending him a bewildered glance. 

_He was all sweet and caring when we were under the spell. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find out he has chivalrous streak underneath all that bleach and leather._  
Spike had caught her surprised look and cursed under his breath.

“Right, then, Slayer,” he said quickly. “You’re all back safe and sound. You’ll want to be getting out of those wet clothes and—”

Buffy let the coat slide off her arms, shivering as her bare arms were exposed. 

“Here,” she said, holding it out and waiting for him to take it. “Thank you. It was a very... nice thing to do.”

“You’re welcome,” he muttered, staring at the floor and shuffling his feet. “Let’s just keep this between us, yeah?”

Buffy studied his embarrassed face, giving a snort of laughter. “Okay, Big Bad. Your reputation is safe with me.”

She rubbed her arms, shivering again as the cool air in the lobby made her aware of her wet pants clinging to her legs, and the water trickling down her neck from her hair. She noticed that Spike wasn’t putting his coat on, just draping it over an arm and realized that, while she was only wet from the knees down and her hair, Spike was soaked from head to toe. She reached a hand to his arm, recoiling from the cold, wet flesh there.

“You’re soaked! And cold!”

He shrugged. “Won’t kill me. I’ll dry off at a bar somewhere.”

Buffy chewed her lip, then blurted, “Why don’t you come upstairs and dry off? I have towels.”

It was hard to say which of them was the most surprised by her offer. Their eyes darted around the deserted lobby, afraid to meet and possibly share information neither wanted the other to have. After a short silence, Spike cleared his throat and said, “Er... um... that... that would be...”

Before he could finish his stumbling response, Buffy turned and pushed open the door to the stairwell, not looking back to see if he was following or not. Only the sound of his heavy boots on the metal stairs told her he was climbing behind her.

_Who knew the fastest way to shut Spike up was to be nice to him?_

Buffy used her key to open the dorm room and quickly looked around to see if Willow was there. She breathed a sigh of relief at finding the room empty, not really having thought far enough ahead to how she would have explained bringing Spike in with her. She pulled some towels from a drawer and handed them to him.

“Here. You can use these to dry off. I can’t do anything about your clothes, but....”

“I’ll be fine, pet,” he said, the warmth in his eyes making her blush and look away. “Just let me get dry enough that I won’t make the lining of my coat wet, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Okay, well, I’m just going to....” Buffy grabbed her robe and another towel, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the communal bathrooms. Without explaining, she slipped out the door and ran to take a hot shower. The showers were deserted that late at night and she had them to herself as she let the hot water run over her body and warm her up. When she had stopped shivering and had washed and towel-dried her hair, she wrapped up in the robe and hastened back to her room. The possible consequences of leaving Spike alone in her room were just beginning to sink in and she was already scolding herself when she opened the door to find him whirling in surprise, his shirt in his hand and his bare chest gleaming in the soft light from the desk lamp.

“Guh.”

“Sorry, luv,” he said, fighting back a smirk. “Thought I might get it to dry faster if I took it off. I’ll just—” 

He went to pull the wet shirt on, stopping when Buffy said quickly, “No. That’s a good idea. Here, let me have it. I’ll just hang it up over the vent and....” She took the wet shirt from him, her fingers brushing his still icy hand as she did so. Suddenly very conscious of her lack of clothing underneath the robe, she turned her back and went to the closet for a hanger. Still avoiding his amused gaze, she put the tee shirt on the hanger and hooked it over the curtain rod above the vent near the window.

“Want to hang my pants up too?” he purred, running his hand over the zipper and waiting for her to cast horrified eyes at him.

“Don’t push it, Spike,” she said, her flushed cheeks taking the force out of her words. To her surprise, he didn’t, just nodded and walked over to Willow’s bed. He carefully put down a dry towel; then stretched out with his hands behind his head, giving Buffy a good look at his chiseled chest, bulging biceps and six-pack abs stomach. His jeans were riding just low enough for her to get a glimpse of light brown hair peeping over the top.

Irritated that he knew she was staring and responding to his blatant sexuality, she muttered to herself and began to plan her revenge. _Two can play at this game, vampire._ Stretching her arms over her head theatrically, Buffy grabbed the front of her robe just before it gaped open. “Oops! I almost flashed you! Bad Buffy.”

Ignoring Spike’s growl, she pulled her most modest pajamas from a drawer and made a big show of putting the bottoms on under the robe, wriggling her hips as she pulled them up. She struggled for several minutes, trying to get into the long-sleeved tee shirt top without actually taking off the robe, before Spike growled again, saying, “Just put the bloody thing on, Slayer. I’ve got my eyes closed.”

She risked a glance at the other bed, only to find that he had his back completely turned to her. Giving a disappointed sniff, she dropped the robe and held the shirt while she studied her reflection in the mirror over Willow’s dresser, fluffing her damp hair and frowning at her small breasts. Satisfied that she had stalled long enough, she pulled the shirt over her head and tugged it into place, glancing at her reflection again before turning away. She was just picking up her robe when she heard a snort from Spike and realized that his shoulders were shaking.

Her eyes flew to the mirror, seeing nothing but her own reflection and Willow’s empty bed... the bed that was shaking with the laughter now coming openly from the vampire lying on it.

“Oh! You... you...” Torn between fury and embarrassment, Buffy sputtered while Spike rolled over and leered at her.

“What kind of slayer can’t remember that vampires have no reflection?” he chortled, looking much too pleased with himself to suit her.

“The kind that thinks she can trust... Never mind, I should have known better,” she snapped, turning her back so that he couldn’t see the disappointment on her flaming face. 

There was heavy silence broken only by Buffy’s angry breathing – and then he was there. She could feel him right behind her, could see from the corner of her eye the hand hovering uncertainly over her shoulder. Buffy held herself rigid, refusing to acknowledge his presence even as every sense she had was screaming that there was a vampire within striking distance. Eventually he gave an audible sigh and moved away.

“I’m sorry. You’re right to be angry.” His soft voice caught her by surprise; she twitched, but didn’t respond. “I’ll just go.”

She heard him walk to the window and take his shirt off the hanger, resolutely keeping her back to him until she heard the rustle of leather. Turning around slowly, she caught him looking at her with eyes that held more regret than she would have thought possible for a creature that had no soul. 

“Wh – where are you going?” 

He shrugged. “Demon bars are open all night. Cemeteries are full of crypts whose owners aren’t in a position to complain about guests. I’ll find some place to bed down for the day. You need to get some sleep, anyway,” he added. “It’s been a long night.”

Buffy nodded and tried to smother a yawn. “I do have classes tomorrow,” she admitted. “I should probably try to wake up early enough to go to at least one of them. Although I’m not sure I can look at Professor Walsh quite the same way now....”

“Think you ought to stay as far away from that bitch as you can, Slayer,” Spike said, taking a step closer to her. “Her and her overfed soldiers.”

“They aren’t going to hurt me, Spike. I’m not a vampire or a demon.”

“You’re not the average co-ed either, luv,” he insisted. “If you think they won’t want to take you apart and learn what makes you tick, you—”

“Stop worrying about me!” she said much more emphatically than she meant to. His face closed down and the concerned expression disappeared as he stepped back.

“Right, then. No skin off my nose, is it?” He spun around on his heel, already moving toward the door when Buffy’s voice and her hand on his arm stopped him.

“Spike? I’m... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way... I’m sorry,” she finished lamely. “It’s just so... weird... that you’re being so... and there’s no spell now, so I....” She bit her lip and shook her head. “I just don’t know how to talk to you any more. You’re so different sometimes, and I....”

“And you miss the old, evil, wants-to kill-you me?” he guessed, his face giving away nothing.

“No!” She lowered her voice. “No, I don’t miss him. He’s... he was a pig and evil and a killer and... evil....” Her voice trailed off. “I just don’t know what to do with this new you.”

“Want some suggestions?” he said, regaining much of his swagger and moving closer to her. He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her one of his best leers.

Buffy giggled in spite of herself. “See? That’s more like it. That I know how to handle.” 

She blushed and tensed, waiting for him to jump on her unfortunate choice of words. To her surprise he didn’t come back with suggestions for what she could handle. Instead, his expression softened and he ghosted one hand over her face.

“Don’t think you could learn to handle a new me?” he asked. 

“ _Is_ this a new you? Or just a side of Spike I never got to see before?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, pet. Turning that ponce, William, into a vampire was a pretty major transformation. I worked hard at it. Used to make Angelus crazy when he thought I was too soft. Did a pretty good job of beating it out me, he did. But old William used to raise his head every once in a while.”

He cocked his head and smiled at her. “I think Red’s spell might have given him something of a wake-up call.”

At a loss for what to say next, Buffy just moved away from him and gestured around the room until she could think of something to say.

“Why don’t you just stay here,” she said finally, pointing to Willow’s bed. “It’s dry and warm, and there’s a comfy bed.”

“Can’t do that, pet,” he said mildly.

“Why not?” Buffy’s voice couldn’t hide her annoyance at having her hospitable gesture ignored. 

“Couple of reasons,” he said, moving into her space and smiling when she backed up. “First place, I’d have to stay all day, and you don’t even have decent curtains on those windows.”

Buffy gave a guilty flinch as she glanced at the windows with their slatted blinds and dime store curtains.

“And in the second place?” she demanded, determined to have the last word.

Instead of answering her, he dipped his head and inhaled deeply as he ran his lips over her neck. Before she could react with anything dust threatening, he stepped back and said, “William’s not always around, luv. And Spike doesn’t want to snooze over there while you’re lying over here... all warm and fragrant and....”

“Ewwww, Spike!”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thanks for the offer, pet, but my common sense says you and me sleeping in the same small room is just not a good plan. Not good for either one of us, I expect.” That was as close as he was willing to come to admitting that her increased heart rate and growing arousal were as plain to him as was the confusion on her face. “Get some sleep, luv. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow night and we’ll see if we can figure out where that back entrance is, yeah?”

Too bewildered by her body’s reaction to having Spike’s lips on her neck to pay much attention to him, Buffy just nodded and followed him to the door. When he had left with a quiet, “Sleep well, Slayer,” she closed and locked it, then wandered back toward her bed, turning off the desk lamp without really seeing it. She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapters Four through Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Formatting issue taken care of - here are the next eight chapters. The final chapters will also go up together.

**Chapter Four Do I Know You?**

In spite of what they now knew about both their TA and the teacher, Willow and Buffy felt they needed to attend class; if for no other reason than to keep an eye on their professor and her mysterious military connections. Buffy gave Riley a wan smile and half-hearted wave when he greeted her, reminding herself that it wasn’t fair to hold it against him that he hadn’t told her what he was when she hadn’t exactly volunteered the information that she was the Slayer.

She studied Professor Walsh with new eyes, taking in the cold expression and brisk commanding attitude. A woman who had once seemed like just a particularly intimidating teacher now came across as something much more sinister. The little bits of information that Spike had reluctantly shared with them about the tests being done on the vampires and demons in the lab had been enough to make Willow, and even the less tender-hearted Buffy and Giles, shudder. Buffy made a silent vow that she would stake Spike herself before she allowed him to go back into those labs.

They managed to get almost all the way out of the big room without having to talk to Riley, although Buffy could feel Dr. Walsh’s eyes burning a hole in her back the whole way from their seats to the door.

“Is she staring at me?” she hissed to Willow.

“Um... yep. She is. Oops! Now she’s staring at me. Eep!”

While Willow scuttled out the door away from the perceptive eyes of their professor, Buffy turned around and returned Dr. Walsh’s hard stare with one of her own. She made no attempt to appear to be your average intimidated freshman, putting the full force of a slayer’s confidence into her gaze. The staring contest might have gone on until the next class had Riley not taken advantage of Buffy’s immobility to step up and distract her.

“Buffy! There you are. I thought for a minute that you might be avoiding me.” His grin was open and genuine, causing Buffy to lose her slayer glare and replace it with an uncomfortable smile.

“Heh! Wouldn’t that be silly?” she said, moving out of the doorway and into the broad hall where Willow waited for her. “Why would I want to avoid you?”

“Well, I thought you might have gotten ‘engaged’ again,” he said, watching her carefully for any sign that he might have hit on something he should know.

“No. Of course not. I told you, Riley. That was just a silly joke. Not a very good one, I guess, but your expression when you caught me looking at those wedding dresses was too tempting. It was either tell you I was picking out a dress for our wedding and watch you panic, or tell you that I was marrying someone else. Either way....”

“Either way you were playing me. Got it.” His smile was a little strained, but he put an arm around her and squeezed lightly. “I really do have a sense of humor. I promise. Although, maybe it’s not quite as... off beat... as yours seems to be.”

Without answering except to give him another “heh” and an insincere smile, Buffy waved at Willow and hurried after her, leaving Riley to ponder the mystery that was Buffy Summers. He turned to leave and bumped into Maggie Walsh.

“How well do you know that girl?” she demanded without explanation.

“We... well, we’re dating... I think. I guess. She’s a bit... different, but—”

“I want to meet her. In a non-academic situation.”

Riley blinked bewildered eyes. “Well, yes, sure, Mag—Professer Walsh. But why?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring his question in favor of demanding, “And ask her what it’s like to be ‘the Slayer’.” Without further comment, she turned and walked away, leaving him staring between her retreating back and the direction in which Buffy and Willow had gone.

 

After their afternoon classes and a quick meal in the school’s cafeteria, Buffy and Willow walked toward Giles’ apartment complex, licking ice cream cones as they strolled through the darkening streets. The sun had just gone completely down when Buffy felt familiar tingles on the back of her neck. She pulled out her stake, then relaxed as she identified the source.

“Vamps?” Willow asked, eyeing the stake now dangling from Buffy’s hand.

“Just one,” she replied with a sigh. “And here he comes.”

“That for me, pet?” Spike asked, nudging the arm holding the stake as he fell into step beside her.

“Maybe,” she said. “You almost made me drop my ice cream.”

Before she could flinch away, Spike leaned down to take a big bite from her cone, grinning at her indignant “Hey!” and dancing out of reach. His tongue came out to lick the ice cream off his lips with slow purpose and more obviously than necessary. Buffy retaliated by darting her own pink tongue out to lick delicately at the gap he’d left in her dessert. She ran her tongue over the entire remaining ice cream, making soft murmurs of pleasure at each small mouthful that she pulled between her lips.

Willow blinked at them, not sure she was seeing what she seemed to be seeing.

“Uh, guys? Buffy? Spike? What are you doing?”

Buffy blushed from head to toe, and attacked her cone with much less tongue and way more swallowing ice cream in quantities that prevented her from answering. Spike just shrugged and winked at Willow.

“We’re just playing, Red. Nothing for you to get upset about. And anyway, you’re the one who made us fall in love, aren’t you? Can’t blame us if it’s taking a while for all that pent up lust to wear off.”

“There was lust?” Willow squeaked. “Pent up lust?”

“Not like it could be anything else with the Watcher and all in the room, is there? Course it was pent up. What else were we going to do with it?”

“Buffy?”

Having run out of ice cream, Buffy had no choice but to try to reply.

“Um...what he said, I guess. I mean, we _were_ pretty hot and heavy for a while there...”

“That was four days ago!”

Buffy and Spike exchanged looks, reaching mutual agreement that there was no reason to tell Willow about the previous night’s events. There was silence while they crossed the parking lot to Giles’ front door, broken finally when they arrived there.

“Was a right powerful spell then, wasn’t it?” Spike said as he held open the door for them. “That must be the explanation.”

“Explanation for what?” Xander asked, peering suspiciously between the two girls and the vampire.

“Nothing,” Buffy said quickly, giving Willow a pleading look.

“Right. Nothing. Lots of nothing. No things here. Nothing at all...and I’m shutting up now.”

Xander stared at the two embarrassed girls and the smirking vampire before turning to Giles who was just entering the room.

“Why is _he_ here again?”

“A better question might be ‘why wasn’t he here last night?’,” Giles said dryly. “And why didn’t _you_ report back to me, Buffy? Was there any trouble?”

“Not really,” she said with a shrug. “We did learn some stuff, though. Turns out Spike’s bat ears come in pretty handy.”

Xander’s snicker brought a glare and small growl from the vampire before he moved closer to Buffy to add his comments to hers as she filled Giles in on the armed guards, the sensors they’d tripped and the machinery Spike had heard running inside the building.

“It was a lift, you say?” Giles asked, directing his comments to Spike who he correctly identified as the one with the most information. 

Between Spike’s attempts to help during the spell, and his rather obviously changed attitude toward Buffy since then, Giles was beginning to perceive the vampire in a quite different way. It was becoming clear that there was much more to the former member of the Scourge of Europe than the bad boy image he preferred to present to the world.

“Sounded like. I know where they were keeping me was well underground. Not just a basement, either. Something deep. I could feel it. Took me a long time to make my way out of there, and I was climbing almost the whole time.”

“I wish you had shared this with us straight away,” Giles muttered.

“Why? Were you going to send the Slayer out to dig around until she hit something hard? Didn’t seem that important at the time.”

Spike shrugged and walked to the kitchen, pulling an old bag of pig blood from the back of the fridge.

“Hey, Watcher. This is the last bag. Need to stock up.”

“I was not aware that I had taken you in to raise,” Giles said stiffly. 

“Well, weren’t you just complaining that I didn’t come home last night, Dad?” Spike grinned and deliberately used one of Giles’ best mugs to warm his blood in the microwave. He waited until it looked like Giles was getting angry enough to physically throw him out before continuing. “Not to worry, Watcher. Found myself a nice little crypt with a view last night. Soon’s I get it furnished, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Can’t be soon enough,” Giles muttered, stepping into the kitchen and getting out a glass for himself. He took the Scotch bottle off the shelf and poured himself a stiff drink, sighing when Spike held out his mug of warm blood and looked at him expectantly. He poured a small amount of his remaining Scotch into the mug, then closed the bottle and set it back. The two Brits sipped their drinks in surprisingly companionable silence for a few minutes, watching the young people in the other room. Buffy and Willow were bent over the laptop, their expressions alternately shocked and angry. Xander and Anya were whispering to each other on the couch.

“You know,” Spike said, his voice casual, “Anyanka’s been responsible for a lot more deaths than I have. And yet, there she is, one of the gang.”

Giles slid his eyes to the side.

“You want to be ‘one of the gang’?” he asked, his eyebrows going almost up to his hairline. 

“What? No! Not on a.... No. I’m just saying.... Forget it.”

He turned around and rinsed his cup out in the sink, setting it carefully upside down to drain on a handy towel. Giles watched him, his eyes quietly studying this totally unexpected version of William the Bloody.

“It’s forgotten,” he finally said as Spike went to walk past him. “You know it’ll never happen. They’ll never trust another vampire. Not after....” He paused, unable to bring himself to talk about the things Angelus had done.

“I’m not him, Watcher,” Spike said with a soft growl. Then he sighed. “But I expect you’re right. That git’s shadow will hang over everything I do.” 

He walked out to the living room and draped himself over the chair in which he and Buffy had spent so much time just a few days ago. Her eyes flickered to him, then quickly away when he sprawled out, one leg over the arm, the other stretched out in front of him. She missed the sad smile that twitched his lips when she looked away from him so resolutely, but she found herself acutely aware of his presence just behind her.

Willow was filling Xander and Anya, and Giles who had now joined them, in on what she and Buffy had seen of the Initiative’s activities. Willow had managed to access Professor Walsh’s files listing the experiments that had been done on various demons and vampires, along with the usually fatal results. It was obvious that Spike had been very lucky to get out with nothing worse than a scar on his head and an inability to kill.

“I think the only thing we can do is just be out there every night until we can catch these guys in action.”

“And by we, Buff, you mean you, right?”

“Well, me and Spike,” she said, pointing over her shoulder.  
“So, Deadboy Jr is going to be the bait, huh?”

“Oh,” Buffy turned around to stare at Spike. “I wasn’t really thinking about it that way. I guess it’s not such a good idea, is it?”

Spike just waited stoically for her to explain what she had meant.  
“Why not? Sounds like a plan to me. They want their escapee back, you want to see them in action...” Xander seemed genuinely puzzled.

“Well, what if they try to capture him again?”

“Let them have him. It’s only Spike.” Xander shrugged in Spike’s direction. “No offense.”

“They can’t have him back,” Buffy said. “I’ll stake him before I let him go back to that place.”

Spike sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat. “As much as I appreciate what I hope is the thought there, pet, I’m not really enthused about your plan of how best to keep me out of their hands.”

“I just meant... never mind. I guess you’d better stay here. I’ll go by myself.”

“They could be gunning for you now, too,” he objected, leaning forward for emphasis. Her glare reminded him of how she’d reacted to his warning the night before and he backed off with a shrug. “I’m just saying – the dozy bitch with the notebooks knows what you are. No reason to think she’s keeping it a secret.”

“Well, if you can’t go out at night, and I can’t go out at night, who the hell is going to find out what these guys are up to? Not to mention, keeping Dr. Inkfell from becoming something’s dinner. Be serious, Spike.”

Willow’s “Dr. Inkfell?” resulted in a short recap of Buffy and Spike’s encounter with the anthropology professor; and Xander shook his head in disbelief.

“She lives in Sunnydale and she wants to study vampires? Why doesn’t she just hang out an ‘all you can eat’ sign?”

“That’s what I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. She acted like I’m the bad guy because they’re all afraid of me.”

“Technically, pet, not all vamps are—” He lowered his hand when Buffy turned to glare at him. “Right you are, Slayer. Afraid. All of us. Every single one.” He ignored the snickers from Xander and Willow as he tried to hang on to his dignity by leaning back and pretending he wasn’t listening to the conversation.

Giles brought a halt to the discussion by clearing his throat and interrupting to say, “Buffy, I’m afraid I – and you have no idea how much this pains me – do agree with Spike. Until we know more about these commandos and their intentions, it may be best for you to keep a low profile. As far as they are concerned, anyway. Perhaps a quick patrol through the cemeteries tonight and then back to your dorm room. Try to avoid any confrontations with anything else for the present time.”

Buffy frowned, stuck out her lower lip, noticed Spike’s eyes focused on it and quickly changed her expression from pout to reluctant agreement.

“All right,” she said, standing up and collecting her stakes. “But I’m not going to hide from them forever. I’m going to tell Riley I know what he is and see what he has to say for himself.” She pulled on her jacket and kicked the back of Spike’s chair. “Come on, fangface. You can watch my back while I work out my issues on some fledges. And then you can show me this crypt that you think you want to live in.”

While the Scoobies exchanged looks of disbelief – both at Buffy’s comments and at Spike’s silent compliance with her orders – she waved her hand at them and left the apartment, telling Willow not to wait up for her.

 

**Chapter Five I Can Kill Demons!**

“Not that I’m unwilling to watch your pretty little backside for you...” Spike said, laughing when Buffy said firmly, “Back. You’re watching my _back,_ Spike.” 

“Tomato, Tomahto, pet. Point is, I don’t know how much help I can be, what with not being able to bite or anything.”

“Maybe you could just trip one? Or, you know, yell ‘watch out!’ That’s pretty much what Anya does.”

“I’ll do what I can. It’s not like you’re likely to need my help with a couple of fledges, is it?”

“Probably not.” She frowned. “Would you rather not? Patrol with me, I mean.”

Neither one of them had questioned the formerly unthinkable prospect of the Slayer of Slayers helping to protect one. Buffy’s question made it difficult to avoid the reality of their situation. They stopped and stared at each other, suddenly unsure of their roles.

“I... dammed if I know, Slayer. I’d rather be with you than back with the Watcher and your sidekicks,” he said with a frown. “Don’t know about the part where I help you slay my own kind.”

“You don’t have to help,” she said with a shrug. “You can’t really do anything anyway, right?”

“Good job ruining my night with the reminder,” he growled, stuffing his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders.

“You just said it yourself! Don’t blame me for repeating it.” Buffy tossed her head and strode off toward the nearest cemetery. Her mouth turned down in disappointment for a second until she heard the swish of Spike’s coat and the sound of his boots carrying him back to her side.

They walked quickly until Buffy’s irritation wore off and she slowed her steps. Spike matched his stride to hers, watching her out of the corner of his eyes until he saw her face relax.

“You over it now?”

“Over what?”

“Being brassed off at me for snapping at you.”

Buffy shrugged. “I don’t know why I bother getting mad. You’re just being you. It’s who we are. You make me mad, I make you mad.” She paused and peeked at him from the corner of her eye. “We just can’t beat up on each other when it happens anymore.”

“You sound like you’re sorry about it.”

“I think I’m gonna miss it... sometimes.” 

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Me too.”

They walked in companionable silence a little more, then Buffy said, “That probably says something deep and possibly scary about us, don’t you think?”

“What’s scary about needing a little violence in your life? Think our names say it all, don’t they?”

“Buffy? Spike?”

“Slayer. Vampire.”

“Oh yeah. Good point.”

They swung through the gates of Restfield cemetery, Buffy moving into a less relaxed posture as she studied the ground for new or newly disturbed graves. Spike hung back and watched her graceful movements as she quartered the ground, senses alert and excitement building.

When the ground erupted right in front of her, she jumped back, her stake appearing in her hand as if by magic. Spike was well behind her, leaning against the side of a crypt when she bent down to drag the new vampire the rest of the way out of the earth.

“Come on, you. I need some exercise.”

The slow-witted vampire stared at her blankly for a few seconds.

“Huh?”

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes. “You’re supposed to try to eat me. Then we fight and I—”

She was cut off when the suddenly ravenous vampire’s demon took over and she went down under his mud-covered body.

“Ewwww! Get off me! You’re filthy!”

Her stake had disappeared and she was reduced to swearing and holding the slavering vamp off with one hand while she felt around for her stake with the other. The sound of Spike’s muffled laughter did nothing for her disposition and she glared at him as he stood to one side, twirling her stake through his fingers.

“Missing something, Slayer?”

“This is how you watch my back? Gimme that!”

“Can’t see your back, can I? There some big smelly git in the way. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you and he were getting right friendly....”

“I am sooo going to kill you!”

Spike’s intended response never left his lips as Buffy’s distraction gave the demon the opening he needed and he reached for her neck with his fangs. Before Buffy even registered that she might be in actual trouble, there was dust floating into her face. She coughed and sat up, staring at Spike, who was staring at the stake in his hand.

Buffy climbed cautiously to her feet, keeping her eyes on Spike and the stake. He finally raised his eyes to hers.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he said unnecessarily. 

“So I see.” 

He handed the stake back to her. “Probably a fluke. Heat of the moment or something...”

“Yeah, probably...” She moved slightly away from him, holding the stake firmly at her side.

“Guess we should check it out, yeah?”

“I guess so...” She bit her lip. “Okay. Hit me. I’ll give you one punch.”

“Hold onto the stake, pet.”

Disappointment flew across her face so quickly he wasn’t sure he’d seen it.

“Am I going to need it?”

He cocked his head at her. “No,” he said with a sad smile. “But the way you’re standing tells me you aren’t as sure about that as I am. Just want you to feel comfortable.”

“Comfortable. With you. Who might be able to kill again.”

It was Spike’s turn to try to hide his disappointment before Buffy saw it.

“Got your stake, don’t you?”

Buffy looked from him to the stake in her hand, then tucked it behind her back into the waistband of her pants.

“Okay. Let’s do this. One punch.”

“How about one bite?” He licked his lips lasciviously as he moved toward her.

Buffy narrowed her eyes and rested one hand on the stake behind her back. 

“Punch. One.”

“Spoil sport,” he growled. “Alright, stand still, will you?” he said as Buffy began to bounce on the balls of her feet. 

He jabbed at her face with his left hand, tentatively tapping her chin.

“That’s it? That’s the best you’ve got?” Buffy rolled her eyes and took her hand off the stake.

“Don’t really want to hit you,” he muttered. “You should have let me bite.”

“If I _let_ you bite, it probably wouldn’t work anyway, you moron, “ she said in disgust. When he still didn’t do anything but move around her as if looking for a good spot to tap her again, she threw up her hands. “Oh, for the love of—”

She snapped out one arm, rocking him back on his heels with a one-two combo to his face. Following up with a body blow that doubled him over, she ignored his growling.

“Come on, Spike. Let’s see what you’ve got. Are you afraid of me? Want me to drop the stake again so you’ll feel better?” 

Her final fist to his nose, combined with her continued taunting took the last of his patience. With a snarling roar, he jumped at her, fangs bared and hands reaching for her shoulders. Before he could touch her, he was on the ground holding his head and screaming. Heedless of the fact that he was still in game face, Buffy dropped to her knees, fluttering her hands helplessly over his writhing body.

“Oh my God, Spike. I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to....”

“Yes, you did,” he said, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the sky. “You did it, and it worked. Soon’s I was seriously thinking about hurting you....” He rolled his head to the side to meet her concerned eyes. “Guess that means it was a fluke. Whatever they did to me, it’s still working.”

“It’s a chip,” Buffy said without thinking.

“A what? And what the bloody hell do you know about it?” Immediately his initial suspicions that she was responsible for his capture came flooding back, but the twinge to his still aching head wouldn’t allow him to follow up.

“Nothing,” she said, holding up a hand in the classic sign for peace. “Willow knows about it. She just found it today in Professor Walsh’s files. They call you Hostile Seventeen, and you have a microchip in your head that is supposed to fire anytime you try to bite or harm a...” She stopped and looked at him with new excitement. “... a human!” she finished. “That’s why you could stake that vamp; the chip is meant to keep you from hurting humans.”

“You mean I can still fight demons?” He winced as he sat up, but couldn’t contain his hope. “I’m not a complete eunuch?”

Buffy shook her head. “No. And would you please stop using those...words...to describe what happened to you? You’re not emasculated, just safer to be around.”

“Hoo, bloody, rah, Slayer.”

“Think about it, Spike. Which would you rather have lost – your ability to kill or your—”

“Don’t say it!”

“Then stop bringing it up,” she said, standing up and offering him her hand. She pulled him to his feet, frowning when he squeezed his eyes shut in pain. “Does it still hurt?”

“I’ll live,” he said. “Just leaves me with a headache for awhile.”

Buffy looked down at her muddy clothes and sighed.

“Well, I’ve got to go back to my room and get some clean clothes. Come with me and I’ll see if we’ve got some aspirin or something.”

On their way out of the cemetery they encountered two young vampires just entering it. Before Buffy could step forward, Spike put a hand on her arm.

“Let me, Slayer. May as well find out for sure if your theory is right.”

“Okay. But be careful.” She blushed when he sent her a puzzled but grateful look. “I mean...I don’t know how much aspirin we have. I just don’t want you to....”

“Quit while you’re ahead, luv,” he said stepping toward the advancing vampires. “And watch my back – just in case.”

“There is something very wrong with this picture,” she muttered, sitting on a tombstone and watching as Spike went into game face and threw out his challenge.

“What are you wankers doing in my cemetery?” he demanded. “Don’t you know who I am?”

Their eyes shifted to Buffy, watching with a surprising lack of concern.

“No,” blustered the largest one. “But it won’t matter in a few minutes. We’re going to take you, take your cemetery, and then...” He charged at Spike, snarling, “we’ll take your girl there and play with her before we eat her.”

“Eek!” Buffy squealed. “I’m so frightened. Spike, protect me!”

Spike met the younger vampire’s charge with grin and a punch to his solar plexus. When the chip didn’t fire, he threw his head back and roared. 

“I’m back!” 

He allowed his opponent to recover from the initial disabling punch, amusing himself with picking up the other vamp and throwing him into a tree. Buffy watched with interest as Spike toyed with the two oblivious vampires, taunting them, questioning their manhood and their demon credentials while he beat on them almost at will. Finally, shivering with cold now that the mud in which she was caked had soaked through her clothes, Buffy spoke up.

“Come on, Spike. Quit playing, I need to get out of these clothes.”

He threw a quick glance over his shoulder, saw that she wasn’t kidding, and without hesitation used the sides of his hands to break the necks of both vampires simultaneously. Without comment, Buffy tossed him her stake and stood up. As soon as he had dusted both vamps, he handed the stake back and fell into step beside her.

“Are you cold, pet?”

“A little. Not like last night, but walking around with drying mud caking to my body isn’t my idea of a good time.” She saw his eyes light up and his mouth start to open. “Don’t even!” she said, effectively shutting down the anticipated mud wrestling reference.

“You’re no fun at all,” he grumbled, bumping her with his shoulder.

“That’s what all the vampires say.” She nudged him back. They strode on a few more steps then Buffy said with studied casualness, “So, you can hurt and kill demons, just not people. Kind of sounds like my job description.”

“Does, doesn’t it?” he agreed and continued walking.

“Are you going to make me ask you?”

“Yep. And ask me nicely, Slayer, or I’ll say ‘no’.”

She laughed. “You won’t say ‘no’. You’re already so bored you can’t see straight. I’m offering you a chance to come out every night and help me fight vampires and demons instead of sitting in Giles’ apartment listening to Xander and Anya providing us with more details than we need to have about their love life. Even if you said ‘no’ now, you’d be back tomorrow begging me to let you help me kill things.”

She waited, then added, “And if you stay at Giles’, sooner or later he’s going to notice that you’re drinking all his scotch. And he still knows how to behead a vampire...”

“S’pose it is a good way to stay out of trouble, at that,” he agreed. “Idle hands are the devil’s joy, and all that.”

“Exactly.”

 

**Chapter Six (Hell Hath No Fury)**

Buffy stopped short just before the steps up to the entrance and stepped off the sidewalk.

“Slayer?”

“This stuff is getting dry. I want to brush it off out here so I don’t end up with a pile of dirt in my room.”

She began brushing vigorously at her arms, legs and torso, knocking off as much of the dried mud as she could. When she thought she was through, she made to move back to the steps.

“Hold on, there, Slayer. You missed some.” He turned her around and brushed the mud off her back. When his hand slid down to her ass, she grabbed it quickly.

“I’ll get that part, thank you very much.” While Spike sighed and rolled his eyes, Buffy quickly brushed off the seat of her pants and tried to peer at it over her shoulder. “Did I get it all?”

“Yeah, you got it. Let’s go get my aspirin and your dry clothes.”

Once again, when they reached the entrance to the dorm, Spike moved ahead and held the door open for Buffy. She stopped and stared at him.

“You need to stop doing that.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s... it’s just weird! William the Bloody, being all gentlemanly and good mannered.”

“William the Bloody knew a great deal about good manners, pet,” he said, following her down the hall to the stairs. “More than any of you do, I’d wager.”

“Spike, you’re William the Bloody. You’re talking about him like he was somebody else.”

“Was somebody else,” he said quietly. “Thought we’d covered that the other night.”

“That was William. That was you before you became a vampire.” When he didn’t respond, she turned around to face him. “It was, wasn’t it?”

He shrugged and passed her. 

“C’mon, pet. I’ll race you up the stairs.”  
Buffy took off after his rapidly disappearing coat, shouting, “Wasn’t it? Answer me!”

She caught up with the grinning vampire at the top of the stairs and shoved him as she walked past. 

“Don’t think I’m going to forget my question,” she muttered, flashing an insincere smile at two curious coeds coming from the room next to hers. They stared at Spike with unabashed curiosity and admiration. Turning his back on Buffy, he gave them a warm smile and an appreciative once-over, and was rewarded with giggles and small waves.

Buffy opened the door and waited impatiently for Spike to follow her inside.

“Were you flirting with those girls?”

“Could be. Would it brass you off if I was?”

“Would it— Don’t be ridiculous.”

“That’s what I thought. Was, then.” He stuck out his chin.

“Why?”

“Why?” He cocked his head at her, his expression surprised. “Are you starting to take all my complaining about being neutered seriously?”

“You can’t bite them, Spike. We settled that tonight.”

“Did I say I was planning to bite anybody? I think that little brunette fancied me – might get myself a little—”

Buffy’s face went from red to white and back to red. “If you finish that sentence, I will....” She pulled the stake from her waistband and waved it. Spike moved into her space, disregarding the stake she was clutching.

“Make up your bloody mind, Slayer,” he said in a low growl. “Rather have you. You know that. But—”

“Don’t finish that sentence either. I’m not on the menu – market – whatever! I’m not on it.”

“Then don’t be busting my balls if I go looking elsewhere. I do still have them, you know. And I’d like to keep them happy.”

“You are such a pig!” She whirled, hurling the stake across the room. She pulled off her jacket and dropped it on the floor. Grabbing a pair of jeans and a shirt from a drawer, she snapped, “Turn your back. And don’t cheat this time.”

“Just give me my aspirin and I’ll go, Slayer.”

“Go? Go where?” Buffy frowned, softening her posture for a second.

“I don’t know. Out. Beat up some demons? Find the cute bird who waved at me? What difference does it make? You know I can’t hurt anybody.”

“You’re not going to wait for me? I thought...”

“You thought what?”

“I don’t know... I just thought we were having fun tonight, and....”

“We _were_ having fun, pet. But you’re here now, back in your cozy little room, and I’ve got some excess energy to wear off somehow. Don’t see much point in us spending any more time together tonight, do you?”

“So, you don’t want to spend any time with me if you don’t think it’s going to lead to sex? Is that what you’re saying?” 

He blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m not saying that, dammit! I just... Look, my head still hurts, being around you makes my dick hard, and I’d just like to get a little relief for something.”

Buffy threw a bottle of aspirin at his head, watching with hard eyes as he caught it with a quicker than the eye movement.

“Here. Take the whole bottle. Make your head feel better.”

“Buffy...”

“Take the damn aspirin and go spend some time somewhere you actually want to be.”

“Buffy, if you want me to stay....”

Her stiff back was the only response he got, and with another growl he slammed out the door, allowing it to hang open as he strode down the hall and into the stairwell, almost knocking Willow over as she was coming up the stairs.

“Spike!”

“Witch.” 

Without more of a greeting than that, he leaped from the top step all the way to the bottom, coat billowing out behind him. He was through the door and gone before she could say anything else. Shaking her head, she walked toward the open door of her room, only to watch it slam shut with so much force it quivered.  
Moving carefully, she inserted her key and pushed it open. 

“Buffy?”

“Oh! Hi, Willow.” Buffy lowered the arm that was clutching her stake and flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry about the door. Spike didn’t close it behind him when he left.”

“Um. Yeah figured that. Did you guys have a fight? Cause he was being all 'grrr, argh' when he left. Jumped down the stairs like something out of a movie.”

“He jumped down the stairs?”

“Yeah. It was pretty cool, actually.” At Buffy’s narrowed eyes and tightened lips, Willow quickly added, “He looked pretty mad. You should probably follow him in case he decides to risk biting somebody.”

Buffy tossed her head. “He isn’t planning to bite anybody. Trust me. That’s not what’s on his mind.” At Willow’s carefully raised eyebrow, she continued, “And he can’t bite. I saw that for myself tonight. It really knocks him down for the count.”

Willow didn’t ask how Buffy knew, just nodded her agreement.

“I kinda knew that already. Although, when he tried to bite me, it stopped hurting pretty quickly and he tried again. I think the chip wasn’t finished setting in to his brain yet. It probably took a few days for all the connections to go live.”

In an effort to somewhat change the subject, Buffy said, “On the plus side, it turns out he _can_ kill other vampires, so yay for that.”

“Huh. So, is he going to help you with slaying?”

“I... I think so. If we can manage to be around each other for more than a few minutes without getting into a fight about something.”

“Which, I take it, is what happened tonight?”

Buffy sighed, slumping down on the bed.

“Yeah. You could say that.”

“What about?”

At Buffy’s expression, she backtracked. “Not that it’s any of my business....”

“It’s about him being a pig and thinking with his—”

She was interrupted by the phone.

“Kinda late, isn’t it?”

Buffy nodded and picked it up. “It’s probably Giles with some sudden emergency— Oh. Hi, Riley. What’s up? Now? You want to meet for coffee at 10:00? Yeah, well, no, I wasn’t asleep, but... Oh, really? Well maybe we _should_ talk then. I’ll meet you in about twenty minutes.”

“Riley?”

“Yeah. Says he wants to talk to me right away. That he knows who I am and that I’m probably not going to sleep this early.”

Willow watched Buffy quickly change out of her muddy clothes and into clean jeans, a tee shirt and a hoody.

“What if Spike comes back? What do you want me to tell him?”

“He won’t come back tonight, but if he does, tell him I had a date – with Riley.” Buffy brushed her hair, put on some lipgloss, and smiled triumphantly. “That’s exactly what you should tell him,” she said. “Tell him I have a date with a commando.”

 

Spike slammed into Willy’s and demanded “a bottle of Jack”. He shoved a small demon off a stool and sat down, glaring at the counter in front of him. 

“Hey!” the red-scaled demon said. “You can’t do that!” 

A larger version of the demon stepped up behind and agreed. “Everybody knows about your ‘handicap’, Spike. You’re not in a position to push people around, now that you can’t hurt anything.”

Spike turned a feral grin on them, his fangs beginning to protrude. “Turns out, boys, that my little handicap only applies to humans. Be happy to prove that to you, if you’d like....” 

One look at the eager expression on Spike’s face and the way he was already rising to his feet sent the two vampire-baiters into a quick retreat. Spike sighed in disappointment and turned back to his drink. 

“Does this mean you’re going to start trashing my bar again?” Willy asked, his unhappiness plain.

“Not tonight, it doesn’t. Not unless someone else starts it. Just keep the whiskey coming.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike was on his way to Restfield cemetery, planning to spend the night working on cleaning up and furnishing his new home, when he noticed the men in black gliding from shadow to shadow. Using skills he rarely bothered with, Spike became part of the shadows, remaining immobile and invisible as he listened in on the conversation.

“So, do you think Finn is doing this for Maggie, or does he still have the hots for that girl?”

“Seeing as how he’s taking her back to her dorm, rather than where he was told to, I’m gonna go with still has the hots for her.”

Both the voice and the name he’d used nagged at Spike’s memory, sending him even deeper into the shadows as he remembered where he’d heard them before. But what was Buffy doing with one of them? More racking his brain and he remembered that Willow said Buffy had been dating one of the men living in Lowell House. He smothered his growl, and continued to follow the men from a safe distance.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“They’re getting pretty close to campus,” one of the men whispered. “I think we need to move now. We don’t want any witnesses.”

“I don’t know. Riley didn’t give a signal yet. Maybe he’s changed his mind and wants to wait to bring her in.”

“Maybe he thinks he’s going to get lucky,” another man added with a low laugh.

“Well, our instructions were to engage and capture her, if possible, and to assess her skills if not. If I have to choose, I’d rather piss off Riley than the boss lady.”

“Good point. Let’s go, then. We’ll hit her just ahead of that wall.”

With no more discussion and moving like well-oiled cogs in a machine, the men moved rapidly into position to ambush Buffy and the man with her. Inwardly furious about his lack of ability to do anything, and firmly reminded of that inability when he moved in the direction of the closest man and was rewarded with a warning shock to his already sore head, Spike could do nothing but try to silence the snarls straining his throat. 

Buffy and the tall man with her reached the end of the wall, only to be surrounded by a small squad of black-clad commandoes.

“What the hell—” Riley’s response was completely genuine, as his men jumped out without any signal from him.

“You son of a bitch! You set me up!” Buffy managed to snap out before she was fighting to avoid the net they were trying to throw over her. Evading it fairly easily, she took out the first man who tried to grab her with an elbow to his diaphragm. Spinning faster than they could follow, she swept the legs out from under another soldier and threw a third one into the wall. The one she’d knocked to the ground was searching frantically for the net, planning to use it to entrap her legs. However, it seemed to have vanished; he couldn’t locate it where he’d been sure he’d dropped it.

Within a very short amount of time, all three commandoes were on the ground nursing various injuries, and Buffy was facing off against a bewildered Riley.

“You bastard,” she growled, starting towards him. “I trusted you.”

He retreated quickly, only to find his feet tangled in the net, which had appeared again, albeit in a completely different area from where it had vanished. Buffy’s slayer senses told her there was a vampire in the area, and she smiled to herself when she realized who it was. A leaf drifted down from one of the big trees surrounding the area, and she fought to keep her gaze from going there.

Riley’s tangled feet had resulted in his joining his men on the ground, sitting shamefaced and angry as he tried to get the net off his boots.

“Buffy, I didn’t... you have to believe me. I never told them to do that. I’d already decided that you should come in willingly to talk to Maggie – Professor Walsh. I don’t know why they went ahead without my order.”

“But you were going to give that order? When you asked me to meet you, that was the plan, right?” She stared at him with contempt. “I can’t believe I was dating you. I’ve done nothing since I got to this school but make bad decisions about the men here.” She would have sworn she heard muffled laughter from the trees, but ignored it as best she could.

“Maggie just wants to know more about you,” he pleaded. 

“Then she should have asked me,” Buffy said coldly. She gazed around at the moaning men now staggering to their feet. She was about to suggest that they knew as much about her as they were going to when a voice from overhead shouted, “ Slayer, taser!” and she whirled just in time to kick it out of Riley’s hand.

The two former dating partners stared at each other, one in disgust, one in rueful dismay. Taking up a position between the commandoes and the dorm – one where she knew she could be seen by any students going in or out – Buffy put her hands on her hips and glared.

“Get away from here. All of you.”

Without comment, they gathered up their net and moved off into the shadows, only Riley remaining to counter Buffy’s glare.

“Buffy...I’m sor—”

“Goodbye, Riley. It’s been nice.” 

She turned her back and walked toward the dorm, confident that the vampire guarding her back would warn her of any more attacks. She reached the steps and turned around to see that Riley had also disappeared. Buffy could see the branches in the trees shaking, first going away from the dorm, then coming back towards it. She stared at the nearest big tree, waiting patiently until a black shape dropped to the ground, coat floating out behind him. Spike landed easily, straightened up and stood staring at her, unsure of his welcome.

“Come on,” she said, turning to go in, confident that he could hear her. By the time she had reached the door, the now-familiar hand was reaching past her to pull it open.

Buffy didn’t speak again until they were just outside her dorm room. She held a finger to her lips and said, “Shhh. Willow’s probably asleep.”

“I probably shouldn’t come in, luv. It’s late and—” 

“Are you turning me down again?” she hissed, her back already growing stiffer and her eyes narrowing.

“Not turning down anything, Slayer,” he hastened to assure her. “Just don’t want to scare the witch.”

“She’s not afraid of you,” Buffy said, opening the door and peering in. “Oh, she’s still up. Hi, Willow.”

“Hey, Buffy. How was your date with Ri—” Her eyes darted from Buffy to the figure following her into the room.

“It was peachy, with a side of keen,” Buffy said, forgetting that one of her main reasons for going had been to punish Spike for leaving.

“Uh, Spike? If you’re looking for Buffy, she’s out with Riley. On a date.” She frowned. “Or, she was anyway. That’s what I would have told you if you’d come by earlier.”

“He knows where I was.” 

Buffy sat on her bed and kicked off her boots. Spike stood awkwardly near the door, unsure of his welcome, but afraid to make Buffy angry by leaving without being sent away. Willow continued to look back and forth between them and then suddenly stood up. 

“You know...I just remembered this thing I've got to do... and then I’ll do something else, and....”

“Don’t leave on my account, Red.”

“It’s okay, Willow. I think we’re through fighting for the night.” She gave Spike a small smile. “Aren’t we?”

“If you’re through being all offended because I—” Remembering his audience, he stopped himself before he could say just what he thought she had been offended about.

“I really could use some popcorn. I’ll be right back.” Before either of them could argue, Willow slipped out the door, pulling it shut behind her.

“I’m through,” Buffy said quietly, as though he had finished his comment. “I’ve got no right to expect you to spend all your time with me just because I’m not planning to slay you anymore. It was immature and selfish and I’m....” She glanced up apologetically. “I just can’t get that word out,” she said, frowning when he laughed.

“You wouldn’t have meant it anyway, Slayer.”

“I might have! You don’t know.” 

“Hell hath no fury, pet. Learnt that over a hundred years ago. You offered me some time in your company, and I blew it off like the wanker that I am. You had every right to be mad. ‘s me who should be apologizing.”

“I think the saving my butt from Riley and his buddies was a pretty good apology,” she said.

“So, we’re alright?”

“I guess we are.”

“I should go, then,” he said. “You and the witch need to get some sleep.” He turned toward the door and put his hand on the knob, pausing as if thinking, then turning his head toward her. “Did you tell her to tell me you were out on a date?”

“Maybe. Did you go out looking for that girl?”

He shook his head. “Went to Willie’s, had some Jack and was on my way to Restfield when I heard the ninjas.”

“Well then, I wasn’t really on a date. I was trying to find out what his boss knows about me.”

He nodded and opened the door. “You know, pet. We’re going to have to sort this out one of these days.”

Buffy didn’t look at him, picking at a loose thread on the bedspread. “Can’t we just ignore it and hope it goes away?”

“Hope what goes away?” Willow entered the room just in time to hear Buffy’s reply.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.”

She looked back and forth between them, suddenly remembering what they’d told her about lingering effects from the spell.

“Oh,” she breathed. “Oh, oh my. Still?” When neither one answered her, she offered, “I could try another spell. Maybe make you hate each other again. Do you want me to try that?”

“No!”

“No!” 

Simultaneous and emphatic rejections had Willow giving an offended little sniff as she went back to her desk. “Fine! I was just trying to help. Drive each other crazy for another week or so, then see if you don’t appreciate my offer.”

“We – I appreciate it, Willow. I just don’t think we want....” She looked up at Spike who stared back, his eyes telling her he would abide by whatever she said. “I don’t think we want to hate each other anymore. Do we?” 

He shook his head slowly, never taking his eyes off hers. “We’ll work it out, Red. Don’t worry about it.”

Willow shrugged and sat down to eat her popcorn.

“Okay. The offer stands. Goodnight, Spike,” she added as he started through the open door.

“Goodnight, Witch, Slayer.”  
Buffy raised one hand in a small wave and watched the door shut behind him. She fell back on her bed with a loud sigh, staring at the ceiling as if it might hold answers.

“Okay,” Willow said from her cross-legged perch on her own bed. “Spill.”

“I hate men!”

“Duly noted. Now, what happened out there?”

Buffy sat up, reached for some popcorn, and prepared to enjoy some girl time before sleeping.

 

**Chapter Seven**

 

Spike left the dorm, taking more than usual care to let his senses provide information about his surroundings. Although he’d followed the commandos far enough to be sure they were heading toward Lowell House, he didn’t necessarily believe that small squad wouldn’t have counterparts other places on the campus. He kept to the shadows and used his enhanced hearing and his nose to tell him if there were any humans sneaking around the outskirts of the campus.

The sound of footsteps and voices made him pull back into the shadow of a big tree where he watched the two girls he’d seen in Buffy’s dorm walking along, chattering and paying no attention to their surroundings. Growling at their stupidity, he popped out in front of them, startling them both into small yelps. Their faces relaxed when they recognized him as the good-looking man they’d seen earlier. The brunette smiled.

“You scared us to death,” she said, batting her eyes. “I think you owe us for that.”

“That so, pet?” he purred, going heavy on the accent. “And what is it you think I might owe you?”

“The least you could do is walk us back to the dorm,” she said. “You know, to keep us safe from dangerous men...”

Spike couldn’t help his snort, but quickly recovered. “Not sure you’d know a dangerous man if you fell over one, luv,” he said with a leer that made her blush. “But you’re quite right about needing an escort at this time of the night.”

He began walking in the direction of Buffy’s dorm, wondering to himself how many times he could make that trek before he stumbled across another set of black-clad vampire hunters. When two newly turned vamps wearing UC Sunnydale sweatshirts and game faces jumped out in front of them, earning shrieks from both girls, he sighed and shook his head.

“Are you gits really this stupid?” he asked in conversational tones. “Or just feeling invincible?”

“Huh?”   
He sighed again, turning his back to the girls and flashing his real face. “Little lesson for you, boys. That building there...” He pointed at the dorm and gave the frightened girls a little nudge in that direction. He ignored the “But... I thought we....” saying, “Get yourself into the building and go to bed. And stay away from unlighted areas the next time you decide to go for a late-night stroll, yeah?”

Turning back to the puzzled vamps – which were trying to decide if he was seriously sending their intended meals out of reach – he continued as if he hadn’t interrupted himself. “That building that you’re looking at with so much interest has the Slayer living in it. She’d sense you before you got off the first floor. Not to mention, this campus is crawling with soldiers looking for things that bite.” 

“We’ll take our chances,” the bigger one blustered, stepping closer to Spike and snarling his contempt. “Maybe you’re scared of—”

He never finished. Spike had punched him in the diaphragm, doubling him over and robbing him of any ability to speak. Before the other one could run, Spike was on him, one hand wrapped around his neck. He squeezed for a while, then let the terrified demon drop to the ground. Bending down, took hold of each vampire’s head, and banged them together so hard he could hear the skulls crack. He was staring at their unconscious bodies in disgust, wondering if he should drag them into the brush or just twist their heads off when he was startled into alertness.

While his instinctive solidarity with other demons was fighting with his unspoken agreement to help Buffy with her slaying, his ears had caught the sound of human voices. He immediately faded back into the shadows. As soon as he recognized the approaching commandos, he left the unconscious and badly injured vampires to their fate, running silently through the woods until he was well away from the campus.

With so much of the night already spent, he headed for Restfield cemetery and the large crypt he’d decided to live in. He smiled in approval at the double doors leading into it, closing first the outer, metal door, and then the interior one made of heavy wood. Although he doubted anyone would bother trying both doors, he made a mental note to get some sort of lock or bar that could be used to keep out intruders.

Too wound up to go to sleep, he wandered around brushing dust off some of the horizontal surfaces, including the large sarcophagus that he intended to use until he could find a real bed. He thought longingly of the big bed in Harmony’s cave, but decided it wasn’t worth the effort it would take to coax it out of her. When he found the hole in the floor, he listened carefully, dropping a rock down to judge how far it was to the bottom. Pleasantly surprised to hear it land almost immediately, he leaned over the opening and flicked his lighter on. All he could see in the small illuminated area was the dirt floor and a rough ladder leaning against a wall. 

With his lighter running out of fuel, Spike reluctantly left the rest of his exploring until he could get some candles or torches, standing up to take another look around the more easily explored first floor. Moonlight coming through the small windows provided plenty of light for him to see his way around. Finally satisfied with his new dwelling, he dropped onto the sarcophagus and put his hands behind his head.

As he dropped off to sleep, his last thoughts were that he hadn’t yet brought Buffy to see his crypt, and that he probably shouldn’t do so until he’d fixed it up. Preferring not to examine why he thought that was so, he put one hand over his eyes and resolutely put the Slayer and their strange new relationship out of his mind.

 

“Your boyfriend was awesome last night!” Buffy’s late morning stagger to the bathroom was brought to an abrupt halt by the girl she couldn’t help referring to by Spike’s “cute little brunette” designation.

“My who...wha-?” Visions of Riley returning to the dorm and somehow interacting with the two girls next door flashed through her sleepy brain.

“He’s not your boyfriend?” The girl’s eager question brought Buffy more awake.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said, biting back her disappointment at Riley for having turned out to be such a jerk. “Who are you talking about?”

“That gorgeous guy who was here last night. He’s not your boyfriend?”

“Spike? You’re talking about Spike? No! Ewwww... and what do you mean he was awesome?”

Completely distracted by Buffy’s denial of Spike’s boyfriend status, the other girl had forgotten her original remark. While she lost herself in visions of hitting on the man who was not involved with her nextdoor neighbor, her roommate had joined them and she filled Buffy in.

“We were coming back really late last night and he... Spike?... was walking us back to the dorm when two really scary guys with gross faces jumped out. He was awesome; he sent us ahead to the building and then he just whipped up on those two guys. We watched from the doorway. It was... Wow.”

“Wow,” Buffy echoed, her face still showing her lack of comprehension. “You shouldn’t be out that late, you know,” she said, continuing her way to the bathrooms. “It’s dangerous.”

“That’s exactly what Spike said! Are you sure he isn’t your boyfriend?”

Buffy paused and turned back to look at the other girl with narrowed eyes. “We work together,” she said shortly. “But you should stay away from him anyway. He’s dangerous too.”

The CLB tossed her head. “Like hell I will! He’s hot. How dangerous can something that sexy be?”

The two girls walked off toward the stairs, leaving Buffy to grumble her way to the bathrooms. “Stupid vampire. Stupid girls. Stupid Buffy for letting it bother me....”

“Are you talking to me?” Willow’s equally sleepy voice interrupted Buffy’s grumble and she turned to shrug and shake her head at her roommate.

“I’m just muttering to myself. Apparently after Spike left last night, he rescued the girls in 203 from some vamps, and now he has a fan club.” She splashed water on her face and raised her eyes to the mirror over the sink. “They think he’s ‘hot’.”

“He is kinda hot,” Willow allowed. “He’s got that whole ‘bad boy’ vibe going for him. And if you’d seen him jump down those stairs the other night...”

“Not really needing any more ‘hot Spike’ images, Will.” Buffy stepped into the showers and pulled the plastic curtain closed. “Got enough of those going through my head as it is.”

Willow giggled and stepped into another shower stall. “Well, my offer to do another spell still stands.”

“I don’t want to hate him. I just don’t want to...”

“Want him?” Willow’s shrewd guess was almost drowned out by the water, but Buffy heard it.

“Yeah. Not wanting would be good. My life is complicated enough”

 

Spike walked into Giles’ apartment without knocking, ignoring the watcher’s sputtering and going directly to the refrigerator.

“You didn’t get any more blood?” he said in an aggrieved tone.

“No. Oddly enough, I didn’t feel an obligation to keep food around for you.”

“Oh, well then, I’ll just have some of your Scotch.”   
Spike’s attempt to pull the bottle out from its hiding place behind the cookbooks was interrupted by Giles’ slamming a stake down on the counter. Remembering what Buffy had said about the watcher’s limited patience, he gave an offended sniff and retreated to the living room.

“Have it your way,” he said. “I’ll just have to start stealing my food and drink.” He sat down in the easy chair and waved a hand at the couch. “Sit down, Rupert. Got some things to share with you.”

By the time Buffy and Willow arrived, Spike had filled Giles in on what he’d overheard from the commandos, as well as Buffy’s encounter with them. Their arrival interrupted Giles’ questioning as to why Spike was suddenly helping out the girl he’d sworn to kill. With relief, Spike turned to greet the girls.

“Evening, ladies,” he said with a smile for each of them. “Come to relieve me of the Watcher’s boring company are you?”

“We’re here to make soap,” Willow announced, lifting a shopping bag on the table and taking smaller bags out of it. 

“Soap?”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. Our chem professor gave everyone a project to do – ours is to make soap the old fashioned way.”

Spike nodded. “Ashes and animal fat?” he asked, peering into the smaller shopping bag. He held up a Ziplock bag containing what looked like ashes. “Anyone I know?”

Buffy and Willow exchanged guilty glances, causing Spike to narrow his eyes. While he quickly ran down a very short mental list of local vampires he would not have wanted Buffy to stake, she started shaking her head.

“No. It isn’t anybody you know... it isn’t anybody, period. We just... Willow.... We had to leave the dorm for a while and we brought our stuff with us.”

Without further explanation, they carried their supplies into the kitchen and began puling out pans while reading their notes on how to make soap using ashes and animal fat.

Giles and Spike exchanged looks. 

“Want to bet the witch set fire to their dorm room and that’s what left of it?” Spike whispered. Giles rolled his eyes and shuddered.

“I heard that!” Willow shouted from the kitchen. “And it wasn’t the dorm room, it was just in the bathroom. Nothing burned, it just got... smokey.”

“Knew it!” Spike crowed. “Knew you’d been messing with magic again and created another mess.”

Eyes narrowed into a lethal glare, Willow stuck her head out of the kitchen.  
“I could use some more ashes,” she said pointedly, waving the stake at him. “And I wasn’t doing magic! I was trying to boil lard. Over a fire. Like they used to.”

“Pretty sure that was something people did outside, Red. Not in a communal bathroom in a building.”

“It was perfectly safe,” Willow sniffed. “Tile isn’t flammable. Unlike vampires....”  
Trying not to laugh, Buffy gently took the stake from Willow’s hand and carried it to Giles.

“Here. You take this. I have plans for Spike later; and they don’t include vacuuming him up off your floor.”  
Giles took the stake, then whirled as he realized what Willow had said.

“You are not going to boil lard in my kitchen!” he said, groaning as his nose told him they’d already begun.

“Don’t worry, Giles. It’s going to smell better soon.” Willow held up another Ziplock bag. “I brought all sorts of good smelling things to mix into it so that our soap smells pretty.”

Giles stood in the entrance to the kitchen and watched with some trepidation as Willow and Buffy mixed the ashes into the melted fat, creating a slimy mixture into which they added various fruity-smelling oils. Spike had retreated to a window and opened it so that he could breath in the less pungent outside air. Eventually, Buffy joined him, having been driven out of the kitchen by both the smell and her short attention span.

“Wanna go kill something?”

“Thought you’d never ask, pet,” he said, straightening up and shrugging into the coat he’d taken off earlier. He followed Buffy to the door, smirking at Giles who was now going to be left to supervise Willow’s soap-making. “So,” he said as they pulled the door shut behind him, ”Who or what are we gonna kill?”

“Vamps, probably. Is that going to be a problem for you?”

He thought about the two vampires he’d killed in the cemetery, and the two he’d left to the tender mercies of the soldiers. “Nope. No problem here, Slayer. Not so long as they aren’t friends of mine, anyway.”

“Vampires have friends?”  
Her stopped and gave her a long, hard look. “You know, maybe you should think about reading that book on vampires and demons – if that idiot woman lives long enough to write it. You might learn something.”

“I know all I need to know, Spike,” she said, glaring back at him. “A stake to the heart, off with their heads, daylight is good, and holy water makes a nice accessory to my cross.”

“That’s my bloodthirsty girl,” he said with less approval in his voice than she might have expected. “Tell me, Slayer, what would you do if you came across a vamped kid?”

“Been there, done that,” she said shortly, striding off again.

“Oh. How’d you handle it, then?”

“I waited for her to change, then I staked her.”

Something in her face made him soften his voice for his next question.

“And then what, pet?”

“And then I cried,” she said tersely.

“And that’s my girl too,” he murmured, putting his arm around her just long enough for it to count as a hug.

“Not your girl,” she muttered, leaning into him never the less. 

They were saved from any further uncomfortable conversations by their arrival at Longbranch cemetery, where they were just in time to see Professor Inkfell happily following a young female vampire deeper into the maze of old crypts and tombstones. She was chattering away as she went, showing no sign of being fearful or anxious – or having any clue that she wasn’t likely to be leaving in the same condition in which she was arriving.

They looked at each other. “We could just pretend we didn’t see the stupid bint...”

Buffy fought back a smile that she knew he’d sense anyway and shook her head.

“Let’s go, Big Bad. Time to slay.”

 

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

They ghosted their way through the cemetery, having no trouble following the vampire and the oblivious professor. Spike could hear every one of her inane questions, snorting occasionally and rolling his eyes when she asked something particularly stupid and the vampire with her answered with some random comment. When they were close enough for Buffy to hear as well, they halted by mutual consent and peered through the bushes.

The professor was staring around in confusion. Instead of the "traditional welcoming ceremony" the female vamp had promised her, she seemed to have been left alone in front of large stone crypt, the door of which was hanging off its hinges, leaving a gap into which the vampire had apparently vanished.

“S...Susan?” Professor Inkfell's voice betrayed her growing nervousness. “Are you in here, Susan?” She approached the crypt and peered in apprehensively.

“Oh my God,” Buffy muttered. “Please tell me she isn't going to go in there...”

“Time to move, pet,” Spike said as, with one last glance around the seemingly deserted cemetery, the professor slipped through the opening. 

“At least she's not completely stupid,” Buffy said as the beam of a flashlight shone ahead of them. When it began to wave around rapidly, she sighed and gestured for Spike to join her as she moved faster.

They followed the flashlight beam, now coming from the floor of the crypt, and gazed around at a more interesting scene than they'd anticipated. As expected, the struggling professor was now in the process of being tied up, to hang by her arms to be used as a blood source for as long as she lasted. Less expected were the two Initiative soldiers hanging up next to her, both looking considerably the worse for wear, but alive.

Spike's snarl, Buffy realized with a start, was directed at the two bloodied soldiers rather than at the small band of surprised vampires approaching them.

“Spike!” she hissed. “Focus!”

Ignoring her, he walked closer to the commandos, smiling as they cringed in fear of his true face. He ran his tongue up one man's bleeding arm, closing his eyes and sighing in happiness as the warm blood coated his tongue. Another snarl directed at the younger vampires objecting to his tasting their victims brought a loud complaint.

“We got here first,” the nearest one snarled back. “You can take your catch somewhere else. These belong to us.”

Spike took another swipe at the bleeding soldier, sticking his tongue into the open wound and licking it dry. The man's groan, and Buffy's shocked gasp, snapped him out of his euphoria. His eyes flew to her, to find her mesmerized by his actions, a sick look on her face and her eyes suspiciously shiny. She was so busy staring at Spike that she appeared to have forgotten the other five vampires in the crypt. While none of them would have been a match for her if she'd been paying attention, her distraction was all that was needed for one to hit her on the head with piece of crumbled stone.

Spike looked back and forth from the still-bleeding soldier to Buffy's inert body, his own expression fading from surprise to self disgust. His roar echoed throughout the crypt as realization set in. Buffy was hurt and it was his fault. He was across the space and pulling her safely away from center of the room before her attacker had even seen him move. After reassuring himself that she was alive and regaining consciousness, he stood up to face the other vamps.

“Hey, man, we'll share her. That's the Slayer; her blood can keep us all high for a week.”

Professor Inkfell, seemingly forgotten in the excitement, was attempting to sneak past the preoccupied vampires and out the door but her sobbing breaths brought attention back to her and she was quickly recaptured.

“Susan?” she asked with a pitiful whimper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because she's a freakin' vampire, you moron!” 

Spike didn't know when he'd been quite so happy to hear the Slayer's angry voice; he turned to look at her. She was on her feet, trying to shake off the effects of her encounter with the stone. She was also clearly furious, and he began backing away. Too stupid to take their hint from his behavior, and too cocky after having gotten in the one lucky hit, the four remaining vampires that weren't busy tying up the professor converged on Buffy, only to find themselves the recipients of a full-fledged Slayer tantrum. Furious at the vamps for getting the drop on her, on herself for allowing that to happen, at Spike for being the distraction, and at the professor for being an idiot, she waded into them, fists and feet flying.

Spike watched carefully, but she didn't seem to be having any trouble working out her issues on them, and was, in fact, already down to only two opponents. He stopped watching and walked over to Susan, pulling her away from the professor and shaking her unconscious. He helped the sobbing woman to her feet and shoved her towards the door. 

“Stand over there,” he ordered, “but don't go outside without one of us.”

When she just stood still, shaking all over and staring at his face, he realized that he was still wearing his fangs and wrinkles; he quickly shook it back to normal. Released from her fearful inability to move, she ran to the door and stood there whimpering. 

Buffy had finished staking the remaining vamps, and walked over to where Susan was just struggling to a sitting position. She glared down at the snarling vampire, frowning with recognition.

“Hey, I know you. You were in my English class.”

“ _Were_ being the operative word, Slayer,” Spike said. “Looks like she was elected to be the bait for the night.”

“Her hard luck,” Buffy said, staking the demon without a change of expression.

They turned as one to look at the two commandos still hanging from the ceiling.

“Can I trust you to cut them down without helping yourself to any more of the blood they don't need lose more of?”

He nodded, dropping his eyes so as not to read the disappointment in her face. Without speaking, he walked over to the frightened soldiers and stared into their faces. Their eyes darted back and forth between Buffy, who they had quickly determined was the "slayer" that they'd been told to watch for, and the vampire that fit the description of the escaped hostile they had also been ordered to look for.

Spike couldn't prevent his fangs from elongating as he worked around the bleeding men, trying to get them down without hurting them any more than he already had. Although he had no intention of angering Buffy by sampling any more of their blood, he saw no reason to share that with them. He made sure they noticed his fangs as he lowered them to the floor. 

Buffy, meanwhile, was studying a communicator that she had found. She walked over and handed it to the man who seemed to be most able to use his arms.

“Here,” she said. “You can call your buddies for help.”

Without another word to the bewildered soldiers, she walked to the door and nudged Professor Inkfell outside. Spike trailed the two women as they made their way toward the gate, flashing his fangs every time the older woman cast a fearful look over her shoulder. 

Buffy glared at him when she realized what he was doing, snapping, “Stop it, Spike.”

“You don't let me have any fun,” he muttered, moving up to walk beside her.

“I didn't stake you for licking that guy,” she said evenly. “Wasn't that enough fun for one night?”

“About that....”

“Save it.” She turned her attention to the confused professor. “Where do you live? We'll walk you home.”

“He's a vampire!” Professor Inkfell pointed at Spike. “Your young man is a vampire!”

“He's not my—” Buffy sighed. “Yes, he's a vampire. But he can't hurt you. All he can do is make ugly faces and try to scare people.”

Spike's snarl was genuine and Buffy automatically reached for her stake, knowing her casual dismissal of his ability to hurt anyone had hit its mark. She relaxed when he subsided into barely audible muttering. Muttering which increased in volume and quantity when the professor stage whispered: “Is he tame?”

Buffy's snorts of laughter only increased the volume of the growls and mutters, which caused the professor to move even farther away from Spike. 

When they reached a small bungalow near the campus, she halted and said hesitantly, “Would you... I mean... the house is dark....”

Buffy rolled her eyes, as did Spike. “Vampires can't get in unless they're invited. You didn't invite Susan in, did you?” Professor Inkfell's guilty face was all the response they needed. “Fine!” Buffy said. “We'll check out the house and then we're going to give you a lesson on living in Sunnydale.”

They followed her onto the porch, Spike stopping at the threshold when she opened the door to usher them in.

“He needs an invitation,” Buffy instructed as the older woman frowned at Spike.

“But I already gave Susan an invitation, doesn't that mean...”

“Was only good for her,” Spike said. “And she's not going to be using it anytime soon.”

“Oh. Okay. C...come in, then.”

Spike swaggered across the threshold and stared around the book-filled room. While Buffy walked through the house with the professor, who was now insisting they call her Heloise, Spike wandered around the living room, reading the spines of the books on the shelves and those lying around on every horizontal surface in the room.

“Hard to believe she's as ignorant as she is, with all this reading material,” he muttered, even as he picked up a lurid paperback with the title _How to Trap a Vampire_. With a snort, he threw it back on the table and plopped himself into a chair. Just to be able to say he'd made himself useful, he extended his senses but heard nothing to indicate there was anyone or anything in the small house except the three of them.

When Buffy came back with Heloise, she raised an inquiring eyebrow at Spike and he shook his head. She nodded and said, “Well, there you go, Profe- Heloise. There's nobody in the house except us.”

Smiling her thanks, Heloise said timidly, “Can I offer you some homemade cookies and something to drink?”

Spike perked up at the word drink, but quickly realized she didn't mean the kind of drink he preferred. 

“I have juice, water and several different kinds of tea," she continued. "Chamomile, Peppermint, Lemon-herb...”

“Water is fine,” Buffy said. “Then we have to get back out to work.”

“This is what you do? Rescue people?”

“Sometimes. Mostly I try to get to the vamps before they have anybody I might need to rescue. Hence the being in the cemetery when you were. I try to catch them when they've just risen. I save a lot more people that way than I do if I wait they're being attacked.”

“But,” Heloise gestured at Spike. “What if they're good vampires...like your young man?”

While Spike choked and sputtered, Buffy shook her head and tried to explain.

“Spike is... different. He can control himself – most of the time,” she added with a glare that let him know she hadn't forgotten his taking advantage of the bleeding men they'd rescued. “And right now he has no choice. He can't hurt humans, only vampires and demons. So he's safe to be around.” She cocked her head at him and said, almost to herself, “You won't find any other vampires like him in Sunnydale...or anywhere else.”

Heloise sighed. “There is just so much I don't know....” She waved her hand at the books filling the small room. “The information is all so contradictory. That's why I wanted to do my own studies – without any preconceived ideas.”

Spike gave another snort. “Good idea,” he said. “You aren't going to get much from most of these pieces of trash except things that will get you dead.”

“Maybe I could study you?” she asked innocently, flinching when Spike went into game face and began to snarl. She stared at Buffy with fearful confusion as the Slayer went over to the growling vampire and spoke soothingly.

“She didn't mean it that way, Spike. You know she didn't. And I wouldn't let it   
happen, anyway.”

“Works for the same bloody university, doesn't she?” he managed to get out between growls.

“I don't think Dr. Walsh's experiments have anything to do with the college. It's an Army program. I'd guess the school doesn't know anything about it.” 

She was stroking his shoulder and kneeling on the couch beside him as she tried to talk him out of his justifiable suspicion and fear. Eventually he relaxed back into his normal face and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry,” he said, including Heloise in his mumbled apology.

Buffy sat down beside him on the couch, keeping on hand on his leg as she turned back to Heloise.

“I don't think Spike would be a good choice,” she said, although it was already obvious that Heloise had completely rethought the idea. “But I can introduce you to my watcher. Giles can explain a lot more than I can about vampires and demons; and his books are way better than yours.”

“Some are, some aren't, Slayer,” Spike put in. “Council of Wankers doesn't know everything. And neither does Rupert.”

Heloise frowned at Buffy. “This man... Giles? knows more than you do? But aren't you the Slayer?”

“Slayers are the weapons,” Spike said shortly. “The Watchers are the wankers that use them.”

“And on that cheerful note...” Buffy stood up and pulled Spike to his feet. “Keep your door locked, and don't invite anyone in unless they are standing in full sunlight.” She grabbed one of many pieces of paper lying around and scribbled down Giles' name and phone number. “Tell him I told you to call,” she said, handing it to Heloise. 

With more assurances that she'd be perfectly safe in her own house and/or in broad daylight, Buffy and Spike said goodnight and left, walking down the street with no particular destination in mind. Spike pointed towards the dorm area of the campus.

Buffy looked at him in surprise. “No. Not yet. We haven't even patrolled yet. Not really.”

“Saved three people and dusted a bunch of vamps that had probably been feeding like that for some time. I'd say it's a good night's work.”

“I suppose... Why don't you show me where you think you're going to live? If we get lucky, I might get to slay something on the way there.”

“If _you_ get lucky, you mean.”

“Hey! If you hadn't been so busy slurping up blood that didn't belong to you, you would have had plenty of chances to slay. Like, for instance, the smelly guy that bopped me on the head!”

“Speaking of which...” He tugged on her arm until she slowed, then turned her around and carefully felt the lump on her head.

“Ow!” Immediately, Spike's chip fired, sending him reeling back, holding his own head.

“Sorry.” Buffy frowned in sympathy. “I didn't mean to yell.”

“My fault, pet,” he said through gritted teeth. “Should have known it would hurt you for me to be poking at it.” He cocked his head at her. “You probably should have asked the good professor for some ice for that. I should have thought of it.”

“It's not your job to take care of me,” she said dismissively. “You just signed on to help me slay.”

“Might not be my job, but I—”

“You what?”

“Nothing.” He nodded at the convenience store they were nearing. “Let's pop in here and get some ice, yeah? It's not too late to take that goose egg down a little.”

“I'll just wait here,” Buffy said, sitting on a bus stop bench. “I think I'm feeling a little woozy now...” Now that the adrenalin was gone from her system, even slayer healing and recovery couldn't quite convince her brain that it hadn't been concussed, and she was suddenly grateful for Spike's presence.

He was in and out of the store very quickly, a cup of crushed ice in one hand and a plastic bag in the other. Buffy raised her eyebrows, but didn't ask him how he'd obtained either item, just watched as he put the ice in the bag and handed it to her. She sat with the ice bag on her head, shutting her eyes and enjoying the way it soothed the ache that had taken up residence in her head. She didn't even realize that she'd fallen asleep until she began to topple over and a strong arm went around her. The ice bag tumbled to the ground while she straightened up with a surprised “eep!”

“Buffy?” Spike's concerned eyes told her that she hadn't imagined falling, nor had she imagined the strong arm that had caught her. His right arm was wrapped tightly around her shoulders while his left hand brushed the hair off her face.

“I'm fine,” she insisted, not moving away from him, but holding herself erect. “I just got a little too relaxed.”

“Well, just in case you decide to do any more relaxing like that, you're going to do it in your own bed.” He stood up. “Let's go. I'm taking you home.”

“You're not the boss of me.” 

Her lower lip came out in the pout he'd become so familiar with for those few hours when it was always within his reach. Resisting the urge to bite it, he laughed, tugging her hand and pulling her up to stand beside him. “Nobody knows that better than I do, Slayer. But you need to rest your addled little head. I'll make a pass through Restfield before I go home for the night.”

“Well...if you promise to patrol for me...”

“I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“You're already dead,” she pointed out, walking beside him and wondering when he was going to notice that he hadn't released her hand. When he gave no sign that he was planning to let go, she reluctantly pulled it away, sending him an apologetic smile as she did so. She didn't miss the flash of pain in his eyes, and sighed as she said, “We can't walk around like that. It would give people the wrong impression.”

"What impression might that be?" 

“That you... that I... that we....” She shrugged helplessly.

“Thanks for clearing that up,” he muttered as they reached her dorm.

Once again, he held the door for her. This time she had no comment but “thanks” as she ducked under his arm and entered the building. Without speaking, he followed her up the stairs and waited while she unlocked her dorm room. Buffy entered, then turned and shuffled her feet, not looking at him.

“Do you want...”

Spike stepped inside and closed the door. He noted that Willow's bed was once again empty.

“I'll just see that you're safely tucked in and then I'll be on my way, pet.”

Buffy nodded, then winced as it jiggled the bump on her head. She picked up her pajamas from the foot of her bed and threw them over her shoulder. “I'll be right back,” she said, grabbing her toothbrush and going out the door. 

Spike waited patiently, sitting on Willow's neatly made bed and wondering idly where the witch was that she was so often missing from the dorm room late at night. He stood up when Buffy came back into the room and put her things down. She was wearing the same cotton pajamas she'd had on the first night he followed her to her room, and she tugged on the short shirt, remembering how he'd peeked at her in the mirror.

Spike's thoughts went the same place and he shifted uncomfortably as he remembered her perky little breasts and flat, tanned stomach. He stood up and moved toward the door.

“If you're all... I'll just be going then....” 

In spite of what he'd said, he stopped before he got halfway to the door. Buffy was staring at him, her eyes wide and her heart pounding. She took an involuntary step toward him, as he was moving almost without volition toward her. When they were only inches apart, they stopped, Buffy's chest heaving with the breaths she was taking, Spike's hands at his sides, clenching and unclenching his fists. It was hard to say who moved first, but suddenly Buffy's arms were around his neck and his were banded around her waist.

 

**Chapter Nine**

 

When Buffy could tear her lips away from Spike's, hoping he would continue to hold her up— her own legs having developed serious issues with keeping her vertical— she gasped, "What is wrong with us?"

"Don't know," he said, pulling her even more tightly against his body. "Don't care, either. Want you so bad I can't see straight."

"It's gotta be the spell..." Buffy's reply trailed off into more kisses that had her climbing his body to wrap her legs around his waist.

"I take back everything bad I ever said about magic," he said, moving his hands to her ass and holding her in place. "Wonderful stuff."

He walked toward the bed, Buffy still clinging to him and peppering his neck with kisses and nibbles that made him growl low in his chest. He stopped when he reached the bed, half afraid to release her in case she changed her mind. When he didn't move, Buffy lowered her legs until her toes were touching the floor. Her hands slid down from his neck and began pushing his coat off his shoulders, giving him all the encouragement he needed.

He shrugged out of the coat and began to tug on her pajama top, pulling it over her head and throwing it across the room.

"Ah, there they are," he said, dropping his head and taking one nipple in his mouth. "Knew they'd be delicious," he managed to get out between long hard pulls. One hand was kneading the other breast leaving Buffy's hands free to tug on his tee shirt. When he wouldn't raise his arms for her, she ripped the shirt up the front and did her own oral exploration of the torso she hadn't stop thinking about since she'd last seen it.

"Need to take this horizontal, luv," he groaned as her mouth traveled down his chest and she stuck her tongue in his navel. He turned them so that his knees were touching the mattress, then fell down on his back with Buffy on top of him rubbing herself vigorously against the bulge straining his zipper.

"Hey, Buffy, I...Aaaaaah!"

Willow's scream acted like a bucket of cold water. Buffy froze, her legs still on either side of Spike's hips and her mouth on his chest. 

"This isn't what it looks like..." she ventured, sitting up and trying to cover her bare breasts.

Beneath her, Spike was swearing quietly in three different languages, his hands still clutching Buffy's hips and pulling her down onto his aching cock. 

"Stop it!" she hissed, grabbing his hands and pinning them over his head—a move that put her breasts right in front of his face. She gave a little whimper as he tried to reach a nipple with his mouth. 

Willow was still frozen in the doorway, but at the sound of other footsteps, she quickly came into the room and shut the door behind her.

"Buffy," she said firmly, "get off Spike. Now. And put your shirt back on! You too, mister," she continued when she noticed Spike's equally bare chest. "Get dressed and then we're going to talk about this... this... situation."

"Can't we talk about it tomorrow?" Buffy whined, doing as she was told, but with a pout on her face.

"We could talk about it next week," Spike put in, reaching helplessly for her as she walked across the room and retrieved her pajama top.

"Where's your shirt?" Willow demanded. "You need to put your shirt on too." She was having a hard time keeping her eyes off the two toned torsos in front of her – they kept darting back and forth between Buffy's breasts and Spike's flat stomach. "This is giving me a headache," she moaned, sinking onto her own bed.

"My shirt's ripped," Spike said, sitting up but remaining on Buffy's bed. "And if you have a headache, you should probably go lie down somewhere. Somewhere else would be good..."

"No! I'm not leaving you two alone. That's obviously going to lead to...to bad things. Bad things that I'll have to explain to Giles and.... Nope. Not leaving you alone. That's final."

"Fuck!" Spike dropped back onto bed and stared up at the ceiling, completely unconcerned that his erection was more than visible to both girls. He adjusted himself conspicuously and then sat up again.

"I need to go," he said abruptly, pulling his coat up off the floor.

Buffy's face was a mixture of shame and longing as she watched him put his coat on.

"Where... why are you leaving?"

"Because the witch isn't going to leave us alone and I have a problem to take care of," he growled. "Unless you'd like me to take care of it right here... while the two of you watch...?" His voice trailed off hopefully.

"What? Oh! No! Ewwwww, Spike!"

"Fine. I'm out of here, then. See you tomorrow night, Slayer."

He left the room in a swish of leather, not even noticing the eyes peering out from the room next door. Eyes that caught a glimpse of bare chest before he hit the stairwell and leaped down again.

"All right. Now tell me what was going on? No, wait. Don't tell me. I saw _what_ was going on. You need to tell me _why_ it was happening."

"I don't know," Buffy moaned, sinking down onto the bed beside Willow. "We saved Dr. Inkfell and a couple of Initiative guys, I slayed some vamps, got hit in the head, took Dr. Inkfel home, and then I got dizzy so we came back here."

"You got hit on the head? You were dizzy? And that slimey poophead took advantage of it?" Willow's face colored with anger. "I'm going to turn him into a cockroach and then step on him."

Buffy shook her head. "It wasn't like that," she said. "Really. He got me ice for my head, and he brought me home, and then..." She raised her eyes to Willow's. "I'm pretty sure _I_ jumped _him._ He didn't fight me off, but I think I made the first move. He was just planning to make sure I was safe and then leave."

"Oh." Willow looked disappointed that she couldn't test her skills at turning people into animals.

"You could always try turning Professor Walsh into a cockroach," Buffy said helpfully.

Willow nodded. "I'm keeping that in reserve in case she tries to kidnap you again."

Buffy shrugged. "We saved two of her guys tonight—but now I guess they'll tell her they saw Spike, so who knows what she'll do next? She probably thinks he's one of us now. Or I'm one of ... him. Crap."

"You're avoiding the real issue here. Buffy."

"Who, me? Avoiding something? That's just... probably true." Buffy raised sad eyes. "Do you think this is just left over lust? Maybe if we just do it, we'll get it out of our systems and then we can go back to being... whatever we would be if we hadn't spent all that time smooching."

"This is my fault," Willow said sadly. "I need to fix it."

"No more spells, Will. I don't want... I don't know what I don't want. I just want to know that it's just me wanting... or not wanting... it."

"But if the spell is still...."

Buffy shook her head. "We're not in love. We're not talking about getting married." Buffy pushed the thought of Spike's ring tucked in the back of her jewelry drawer out of her head. "We just really, really want to have sex."

"Buffy. It's Spike. A week ago you hated him."

"Well, yeah. But now I know him better... and I always thought he was hot—in an evil kind of way."

"You cannot seriously be thinking about having sex with Spike!"

"Well, why not? I mean if that's what it takes to make it go away..."

"I have one word for you."

Buffy blinked and raised an eyebrow. "One word?"

"Angel."

"Oh God." Buffy fell back on the bed. "He'd go nuts..."

"And he'd dust Spike. Just in case that matters."

Buffy sat up. "Of course it matters. It would be my fault."

"Is that the only reason?"

"Maybe?"

"Not very convincing, Missy. This has left over spell written all over it. You two still think, on some level, that you're in love. That's why Spike is being so nice to you, and it's why you keep wanting to jump his bones." Willow shook her head sorrowfully. "I'm going to have to fix this."

"Maybe... and I can't believe I'm suggesting this... maybe we should talk to Giles?"

"No! He'll just say I ... well I don't think he'll be supportive. He'll just tell me I messed up. I can fix this. And until I do, you don't go anywhere alone with Spike. Is that clear?"

Buffy glared, her lip coming out in another pout. "I'll go where I want, with who I want," she said stubbornly.

"Whom."

"Huh?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Just go to bed. I'll work on this tomorrow."

"No spells," Buffy muttered as she climbed back into her bed and snuggled under the covers.

"We'll see..." Wilow's response was barely audible as she began searching through her spell book for some cure for whatever had gone wrong with her "My Will Be Done" spell. As far as she knew, neither Xander nor Giles had had any lingering effects from the spell. She quickly rejected the idea that Giles might be able to lend some insight.

 

"Well. This has been most helpful. And interesting." Heloise beamed at Giles from across the table.

"You do understand that, had you not already known about slayers and Buffy's status, I would not be sharing this information with you," Giles warned.

"I do. And I appreciate your making an exception for me. Although, I have to say, I don't see the harm in sharing the information about vampires and demons. It has been a wonderful addition to my research, and that doesn't harm Ms. Summers in any way."

"Perhaps not," Giles said. "But to draw that kind of attention to myself would then be to draw attention to the other people in our small group. One of which is, obviously, Buffy."

"So," Heloise nodded. "Ms. Summers is a typical slayer, then?" She missed Giles's incredulous snort, continuing, "Do all slayers have their own vampire boyfriends to assist them?"

"Their own—" Giles struggled for a minute to understand what she was asking, realizing it just as Spike burst through the front door, smoking blanket on his head.

"Rupert, I need— Oh, _you're_ here," he said to Heloise. "Didn't waste any time, did you?"

"Mr. Giles and I have had a wonderful afternoon," she replied. "I know so much more now about vampires and demons. He is just brilliant. Truly." She beamed at Giles, who blushed and tried not to see the growing smirk on Spike's face.

"Yeah, yeah. The Watcher's just full of useful information—some of which I need to access right now, so if you've had your fill..."

"Oh dear! I have spent the entire afternoon here, haven't I?" She smiled at Giles as she stood up and gathered her notes. "But I'm sure there is so much more you have to share with me... Perhaps you'd join me for dinner one night this week. I am quite the good cook — or so I'm told."

While Spiked snickered quietly, Giles walked Heloise to the door, telling her he would have to check his calendar, but that it sounded like a lovely idea. He ushered her out, instructing her to get home quickly before the sun fully set. He closed the door behind her and turned to glare at Spike who was now laughing out loud.

"Should have known you two would hit it off," he said, still chuckling. "If she'd been born on the other side of the pond, she could have been a watcher. Maybe..." He thought about it for a minute. "Well, not one that handles a slayer, I reckon. She's too weak for that. But a researcher or something..."

"I find it somewhat disconcerting that you know as much as you seem to know about watchers and the Council. We may have to have a talk about how you acquired this knowledge..."

"Yeah, well, right now we need to have a talk about the witch and that bloody spell that she did." Spike growled, throwing himself into the chair that still smelled of him and Buffy.

"Willow? She broke the spell days ago. What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about—" Spike broke off, quickly doing a visual check for any easily reached weapons. "I'm talking about the fact that your slayer and I.... That I can't be in the same room with her without.... But I want to be in the same room she is – all the time. Want it more than is natural."

Giles's face went from ashen to purple. "Are you saying you want Buffy to... that you think my slayer...." He started to rise from the couch, clearly planning to remove Spike from his sight.

"Calm down, Watcher. I'm saying that Buffy and I want each other. Know it's wrong. We both know how wrong it is. But it's there, it's real and it's getting to be bloody annoying."

"Annoying."

"Yeah. Annoying. Can't be around her without sporting a... And it's not like she's immune to it! Makes it that much harder when I can hear her heartbeat go up when I touch her, that I can smell her—" The expression on Giles's face stopped him just in time. "It's unnatural, Watcher. Got to be that bloody spell. And now the witch wants to 'fix it' herself. Who knows what will happen to us next if she starts mucking around without guidance?"

"Quite right," Giles sighed, settling back into the cushions. "So, you and Buffy haven't... acted upon these urges, I take it?"

Spike shook his head. "Not yet, but I'm only flesh and blood. And I couldn't fight this if I wanted to." Seeing the expression on Giles's face, he quickly added, "And I do! Want to, that is. Fight it. Fighting it all the time. Grrrr. Argh!" He waved his arms around in an effort to demonstrate how hard he was fighting his urges.

"Perhaps Buffy is not as affected as you claim to be," Giles said hopefully. "Surely she can..."

Spike stopped punching the air and just stared at Giles until he looked away.

"Oh dear Lord."

"Exactly." Spike stood up. "You need to fix this. Before Willow accidently has us trying to kill each other again."

"Is that her plan?"

"Not exactly. We told her we don't want to hate each other again. We just want to be able to be in the same room without— But it's Red. Can feel the power she's got, but it's all over the place. She tries to fix us without some guidance...." He shuddered.

Giles nodded and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "I'll speak with her," he said. "In the meantime...."

"In the meantime, I'm going to go help a friend move out of his house. He promised to give me the furniture he isn't taking with him."

"A friend?"

"Harmless demon type. Lives on the edge of Demontown. Some human with more money than sense offered him a bundle for his house, and he grabbed it and ran."

Giles frowned. "Humans are moving into the demon side of town? That doesn't seem wise."

Spike shrugged. "Prices are lower. What was a windfall for my friend prob'ly seemed like a steal to buyer. And it's happening more and more. Humans buy the houses, fix them up, put up wards if they know about such things, and first thing you know, the whole block's gone human and the rest of the demons can't afford to live there."

"I suppose it was inevitable...although you'd think that with Sunnydale's vampire problem, there really wouldn't be that much demand for new housing."

"Soon's the humans become the owners, they're just as safe in those houses as they would be anywhere else." Spike shrugged again. "Your home's where you make it, innit?" He stretched and walked to the door, peering out first to be sure that the sun had set. "Anyway, I'm off to get some furniture to make my new home a little more homey. Don't suppose you'd like to donate anything to the cause? Bottle of booze, maybe? A few books?"

"Spike..." Giles rose to his feet and walked toward the door. "About Buffy..."

"Yeah, yeah. Touch her and I'm dust. Already know that, don't I? Wouldn't have told you about it if I was planning to take advantage of it."

"Why aren't you?" The watcher's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What are you up to?"

Spike blew out an exasperated breath. "Not up to anything. Was engaged to the chit. Still got those feelings nagging at me, I reckon. Don't want to hurt her."

 

"You are a very...different...vampire," Giles said, frowning and already mentally listing the old Watchers Diaries that he needed to reread.

"Glad one of you can see that," Spike muttered as he pulled the door shut behind him.

 

**Chapter Ten**

Buffy and Willow walked into Giles's apartment, sipping on their Big Gulps and talking about the latest stupid assignment from their Chemistry class. It took several minutes for them to notice that Giles was wearing his "serious business" face and their voices trailed off slowly. Buffy gave a sigh and pulled out a chair, setting her drink on the table as she sat down.

"Okay. What's with the apocalypse face? It's too early in the year for one of those. It isn't even Tuesday, for crap's sake! There's no reason for that face." When Giles didn't answer right away, she changed to a pleading whine. "Please tell me there's no reason for that face, Giles."

"Why haven't either one of you told me about the lingering effects from Willow's disastrous spell?" He waited impatiently while both girls' faces went through various expressions and shades of red before settling into an approximation of innocence.

"Effects?"

"Spell?"

"You," he said, pointing at Buffy, "should have told me immediately that you were feeling an unnatural attraction to Spike. And you," he turned to Willow, "You are not to try to fix this by yourself. You could do irreparable damage."

Buffy spoke up first. "Oh yeah, that would have been a fun conversation – oh, Giles, by the way, I think I want to sleep with Spike now. You don't mind, do you?"

"So, am I to understand that you preferred that I hear about from Spike?"

Buffy's response was to leap to her feet, pulling a stake from her waistband. "No problem, Giles. He's about to become a pile of horny dust." She had her hand on the doorknob when Giles and Willow's combined voices slowed her down.   
"An understandable response, perhaps," Giles said when she turned around and gave him her reluctant attention. "However, he _has_ been somewhat helpful to you lately and it seems to me that removing whatever lingering spell effects are there would be a more charitable and useful solution."

"Is that watcher-speak for I can't stake him?" Buffy's pout was exaggerated, but she returned to the room and sat down again.

"Would you really _do_ that?" Willow looked disappointed, causing Buffy to drop her head against the back of the chair.

"I don't know. I think I could, but..." She raised her eyes to stare at her watcher. "I don't think I want to. Obviously there is something wrong with me. I mean, this is Spike we're talking about. You know, evil, soulless, wants to drink from my brainstem or some such crap..."

"I am not suggesting that you and he become best friends, and certainly not implying that you should act on these... feelings... that you both seem to be harboring. However, it has occurred to me that Spike's chip may have provided him with an opportunity to atone for some of his activities as a vampire. Just as Angel's soul has put him on a path of redemption, and has perhaps made him a Champion in the eyes of the Powers that Be..."

"Spike is nothing like Angel!!!!" Buffy's indignation on Angel's behalf was a solid presence in the room.

"I'm quite sure he would be the first one to agree with you," Giles said dryly. "I am not implying that he would take the same path; however, the fact that he has so quickly learned to control his bloodthirsty urges – without the assistance of a soul – suggests that he is not the average vampire and that there may be room there for adding another powerful warrior to the fight against evil."

"He is a pretty good fighter," Willow pointed out helpfully. "And I think he—" She cut herself off.

"He what?" 

Willow gulped, giving Buffy a tremulous smile. "I think he maybe, really likes you. A little bit."

Buffy couldn't help giggling. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he was liking me last night..."

Willow giggled too, then both girls saw the thunderous expression on Giles' face.

"But that was a spell! And bad. Very bad." Buffy nodded vigorously, joined by a very serious Willow.

"Badly bad. No question."

Rolling his eyes and reaching for his glasses, Giles sighed.

"The point I am trying to make here, is that with Angel gone..." he waited for Buffy's automatic flinch at the mention of Angel's name, surprised when she just nodded, "you could do worse than to have someone with Spike's skills on your side."

"Giles, he's not going to be all that helpful if we're spending all our energy trying to resist getting naked."

"Indeed." Giles coughed. "Willow and I are going to go over the spell she used and consider some possibilities for a counter spell. In the meantime..."

"Already got the memo, Giles. We both did. No Spike and Buffy alone time until you and Willow have fixed everything." Buffy stood up and took her drink with her as she started for the door again. "So, I'm just going to go patrol for a while and then I'll just go to bed. My bed. By myself. No sexy vampires invited."

Waving her good-bye, she went out the door, pulling it closed behind her.

Willow and Giles looked at each other and simultaneously reached for books and pencils with which to take notes.

Buffy strolled along for a while, sipping at her drink and thinking about what Giles had said. She had to admit that the Spike she'd been spending time with since the "engagement" was very different from the vampire she'd thought she knew all about. 

_Who knew that William was such a gentleman, or that Spike still remembered how to be one._

She thought about what Giles had suggested about Spike's possible path to redemption as a warrior for good. Like a whatchamacalit... hidalgo? Like Don Quixote? An old-timey knight like they'd learned about in Spanish class. She giggled to herself at the image of Spike on Rocinante, tilting at windmills, trying to rescue barmaids in distress and singing "The Impossible Dream". 

She was still giggling when she noticed that she was in Restfield and walking toward the area Spike had said was his intended home. She picked up speed when she saw a truck parked outside a crypt and a clearly non-human carrying a heavy piece of furniture through the door. She slowed when she got close enough to hear Spike's voice.

"Ta, mate. That chest was going to be a bit much even for me."

"No problem, Spike. I'm happy to have it gone. The missus was thinking of someplace different to move it every other day it seemed like. I'm just glad the new place is too small for it."

"Works good here," Spike said. "Lots of room in this old place. Must have belonged to some important buggers."

"Well, I'll leave you to the decorating. Need to get back and start rearranging my own furniture five or six times until my wife makes up her mind."

"Thanks again, Herb. Don't work too hard."

Herb walked to the door just as Buffy was entering.

"Gah!"

"Ahhhhh!" he said with an umanly shriek. "Slayer, Spike! Slayer!"

"It's alright. The Slayer doesn't slay things that aren't dangerous to humans... isn't that right, pet?"

Buffy stared at the very, very large demon who stared back at her dubiously.

"Buffy?" Spike's voice brought her attention back to him. "He's harmless, luv. Just here doing me a favor."

Still not speaking, Buffy just gave a curt nod and sidled past the large body and into the crowded crypt. With a wave, Spike's friend left quickly. Buffy and Spike stood silently until they could no longer hear the sound of his truck.

"So," Buffy said, gazing around. "Whatcha doing?"

Spike began moving pieces of furniture farther into the large stone room, filling her in on where they came from as he did so. She watched for a while, then became bored and asked, "Do you want some help?"

 

He stared at her in shock for a few seconds, then shrugged. "Sure. If you'll just help me with that big chest Herb brought in."

Between the two of them, they were able to move the large piece of furniture fairly easily, taking it all the way to the back of the crypt and putting it against the wall. They stood back and surveyed it with critical eyes.

"What do you think, pet? Good spot for it?"

"I guess. It kinda looks like... I don't know. Bedroom furniture?"

"There's no way we're getting that thing down to the bedroom," Spike scoffed. "I'll use it for a weapons' closet or something."

"Bedroom? _Down_ to the bedroom?" Buffy stared around. "What is this? A vampire condo?"

Spike snorted. "This is an old crypt, pet. Been others here before me. Seems like some of them liked their comforts... and their privacy. Here, let me show you."

He moved the rug he'd thrown over the plywood hiding the entrance to the lower level and grabbed a candle from a table.

"Let me go first, pet. Ladder needs a little work and it's dark down there."

"Ya think?" Buffy said, peering over the edge into the inky space where Spike had disappeared. There was a thump as he leaned a ladder against the side of the opening and then a soft yellow light filled the space.

"Okay, Slayer. It's safe enough now."

As Buffy climbed carefully down the shaky ladder, she muttered, "You do know that using 'Slayer' and 'safe' in the same sentence is probably jinxing us for the rest of the night, right?"

A rich chuckle was his only response as he stepped away from where he'd been holding the ladder and watching her descend. Buffy stared around with wide eyes, taking in the rugs piled against one wall and the pieces of wood stacked in one corner of what appeared to be a huge open area. She could see a mattress and box springs leaning against another wall, and a small chest of drawers near the rugs.

"Whoa! That demon guy gave you all this?"

"No. No, most of this I picked up at the dump, or in front of some house where there'd been an eviction or a...." His voice trailed off as he recalled what often was the reason for a house going vacant.

"Or where vampires killed a whole family," Buffy finished for him, her voice flat and toneless.

"Or that," he agreed softly. He sighed as he watched her expression go from happily curious about his new home to grim and uncomfortable. "Buffy—"

 

She shook her head and forced a smile. "I'm fine. I know it couldn't have been you. And Giles keeps telling me, I can only do what I can do. I can't save everyone. I know that."

He glided up to her and stood inches away, trying to get her to look at him with eyes that went everywhere else in the room except his worried face.

"Look at me, luv," he insisted, hands clenched at his sides so that he wouldn't give in to the urge to touch her. When she finally dragged her eyes to his, he sighed in relief. "The watcher's right. You are probably the best slayer ever. But no one can expect you to get to every vamp in Sunnydale before they can kill. It's not humanly possible. Not on a Hellmouth where you've got so much else to deal with."

"I know," she repeated. "But whole families... little kids... I should be able to stop that."

"Doesn't happen very often, Slayer," he said. "If everybody in Sunnydale was that dumb, the town would be empty by now. Anybody who lets a stranger into their house after dark... well, that's just Mother Nature thinning the gene pool."

Buffy shook her head and snorted, "Way to put things in perspective, Spike." But the corners of her mouth twitched and he risked touching her cheek.

"Tell you what, pet. Instead of moving furniture, why don't we go out and see how many potential family killers we can find to slay? I'll even let you get first crack at them."

"You sure know how to sweet talk a girl," she said, brightening up right away and leaning just the tiniest bit into the hand still resting on her cheek.

"Know what this one likes," he whispered, sliding the hand around to the back of her neck and pulled her head towards the mouth he was lowering to hers. "Know just what she likes..."

"I promised Giles we wouldn't be alone together until he and Willow fixed whatever's wrong with us," she whimpered as his lips brushed across hers.

"So did I," he replied, between the brief kisses with which he was peppering her face and neck. "Makes us both liars, I reckon."

"Shouldn't this be getting weaker?" Buffy gasped as she tilted her head to give him access to her neck. "It should be wearing off by now, not getting... oooooh!"

"Don't know. Don't know what kind of spell it was... is" he mumbled around the soft skin he was sucking on over her carotid artery. "Know it's not getting weaker, though."

"Not getting any weaker," she agreed breathlessly, her hands sliding under his shirt to caress the skin on his back.

Spike's hands moved from her shoulders down to the waistband of her low-rise jeans, stroking the smooth skin over her stomach and eliciting a series of moans that made his cock even harder than it had been before he started touching her. He dropped his mouth from her neck to her stomach, kissing his way across and down, tickling her navel before allowing his tongue to slide under the waistband and caress her lower abdomen. Buffy's knees buckled and she fell back against the ladder, holding herself up with one arm. Spike fell to his knees and continued to kiss her stomach while he fumbled with the snap on her jeans, finally opening it and yanking the zipper down.

His mouth immediately dropped to her lace-covered mound, increasing her gasps and moans as she unconsciously thrust her hips forward. She buried her free hand in his hair, holding his head in place while he worried at the elastic of her panties until he'd pushed it out of his way and could put his mouth and tongue where they both wanted them. Buffy's attempts to open her legs wider were hampered by the jeans around her thighs and she whimpered in frustration as Spike growled his own desire for more access.

With a snarl that she tried to tell herself she shouldn't respond to the way she did, he stood up and grabbed her around the hips, carrying her to the pile of rugs and throwing her down. He threw himself on top of her, taking minutes to indulge in long lingering kisses before sliding down again to pull her shoes and jeans off. Beginning with one sock-covered foot, he kissed his way up her leg until he was back where he wanted to be. Using only his human teeth, he snapped the elastic on her panties and let them fall away while he pushed her legs apart and buried his face, inhaling the scent that had been driving him crazy every day since the spell.

Buffy arched up towards his mouth, mentally cringing with embarrassment at the thought of how it must look – her half-naked, a fully clothed Spike with his face in her crotch. Since the only way she could think of to change anything would have involved making Spike stop what he was doing to her, she quickly disregarded her mental image and gave in to the wonderful sensations he was creating – sensations that built until she was shuddering against him and whispering his name.

Through the pleasure-induced fog in which she was lying, she heard the distant sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric, just before Spike covered her with his body and dropped his hips between her thighs. Growling the entire time, he thrust his way into her, waiting only a few seconds for her to get used to it before his hips began moving and he began babbling in her ear.

"Slayer... Buffy... Buffy... Knew you would feel... ah, like that, luv. Squeeze me, love, make me hurt. Let me feel you... ah, like warm silk, you are. Want you so bad ... need you to... Ah, there! There, Buffy. Make me... oh bloody... No one ever... never want to leave... "

His constant motion had quickly brought her to the cusp of another orgasm, this one all the more powerful for being almost simultaneous with his shouted release as he drove into her so hard her head hit the dirt wall behind them. For long minutes after they just lay panting, unable to do more than breathe and, in Buffy's case, stare at the dirt ceiling.

When Spike finally rolled off her body, nuzzling her neck before he did and whispering something she chose not to hear clearly, she flushed all over as she glanced down. She lay with her bare legs sprawled apart, socks still on her feet, her shirt rucked up to her bra and her hair touching a wall of dirt. Beside her, Spike lay taking deep unnecessary breaths, his jeans pushed down and his spent cock draped to one side of a pale, muscular thigh.

"Oh my God," she said, her voice shaking. "What have we done?"

 

**Chapter Eleven But It Was a Spell!!!**

"Bloody hell..." Spike raised his head, saw her stricken expression and dropped it again, repeating, "Bloody fucking hell."

Buffy tugged her shirt down, trying futilely to pull it down far enough to cover her exposed, neatly trimmed curls. When that didn't work, she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest, yanking the shirt out of shape so it would cover her legs all the way to her sock-clad ankles. Beside her, Spike pulled his jeans up, tucking himself away before Buffy could notice that he was growing hard again.

Not that she was looking at him. Her face was buried in her knees, her whole body curled into a tiny ball of misery. Without speaking to her, he stood up and walked to where he'd tossed her jeans, bringing them back and handing them to her with a quiet, "Here, luv."

He turned his back and remained facing away from her until he heard the sound of a zipper and snap. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and turned around, dropping to his knees next to the rugs upon which Buffy was now sitting, still staring at the floor and refusing to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," he said. "I never meant for it to happen like that."

"Like that?" She snapped her head up. "How _did_ you mean for it to happen?"

Pretending he didn't know she wasn't really asking a question for which she wanted an answer, he gestured to the wood stacked in the corner.

"That's a king sized bed," he said quietly. "Was going to wait until the place was all set up, then do it right – candles, music, wine...."

"You were going to try to seduce me?" She gave a short, scoffing laugh and dropped her head again. "Why bother? It's not like I was going to say no, is it?" 

He flinched at the bitterness in her voice, but continued, "Was planning to wait until the spell was gone. Didn't want you to... didn't want _this_ ," he said, gesturing back and forth between them. She raised her head slowly, her expression carefully blank. "Wanted to make love to you, Buffy. And I wanted it to be because you wanted me – not because of some spell that made you think you did."

"Without the spell I wouldn't have even _come_ here," she said. "Did you think about that? Maybe you wouldn't have even _wanted_ me to come down here. You might have gone to all that trouble for nothing."

"Might have. Was willing to take my chances." He took in her angry face and rapidly blinking eyes. "Guess those chances are pretty slim now...."

She gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah, I think you could safely say that." She shook her head. "On the plus side, I don't feel all that... pull that was there before. Maybe we had to do that to get it out of our systems? Do you feel more... normal?"

"Think I can control myself, if that's what you mean," he responded noncommittally. 

She nodded. If she noticed that he hadn't really answered her question, she didn't call him on it, just looked around for her shoes. When she spotted them, she started to get up, but Spike was quicker, getting the shoes and handing them to her. 

"So," she said staring down at the laces she was tying, "Didn't you promise me lots of killing things?" She raised her head, her eyes now bright and hard. "I think I could use some of that right now."

"Right there with you, Slayer." He held out is hand to help her up, dropping it when she just stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "Right then," he muttered. "We're off to kill things."

By unspoken agreement, they left Restfield and headed for some of the more remote cemeteries around Sunnydale. Buffy strode with grim purpose, her mouth set in a tight line as she scanned her surroundings for something on which to take out her anger. As much as she wanted to take it out on Spike, she also really wanted something that could fight back. And, if she was honest with herself – which she was resolutely avoiding – she knew it was no more his fault than hers. Whatever was going on between them, if had been affecting Spike anywhere near as much as it had her, then he wasn't really responsible for his actions.

_Well, except for the whole wanting to seduce me thing. But that could have been spell induced too. Maybe he won't want to do that anymore now that it's out of our systems._

"What's the plan, Slayer? If you don't find anything worth slaying, I mean."

She fixed hard eyes on him. "I think you'd better hope that I do," she said. "I really, really need to beat up on something." When he didn't respond, she added, "And just so you know, I want to do it myself. You can watch, but don't get in my way."

 

After they'd realized what had gone wrong with her original spell and dealt with it, Willow had buried herself in a book of simple spells, writing down the ones she thought might be useful and taking great care to get every word correct and in the proper order. As the watcher came into the room from the kitchen, she looked up with less confidence than she would have had a few days ago.

"Are you sure it's gone?" 

"It should be." He sat down at the table and sighed. "I'm glad we figured it out quickly and didn't need them to be here for it. If we'd had to wait until the next time we had them together, it may have been too long. Heaven only knows what could have happened by then." He shuddered and reached for his glass.

"Yeah. At least we got it done before it got too late. Buffy's probably slayed a few vamps and gone back to the dorm already. She won't even know it's gone until I tell her." She looked at him curiously. "What did you say Spike was doing?"

"Moving furniture, according to him." 

"Huh. Okay then, job well done. I'm going to head back to the campus and—"

"I'll drive you," Giles said, standing up and picking up his keys. "It's much too late for you to be walking around Sunnydale without Buffy."

"I have a few things up my sleeves," Willow grumbled. "I'm a match for any vamp I see coming."

"It would be those that you do not 'see coming' that should concern you," he said dryly. "I'm quite pleased that you feel you can defend yourself if needed, but I suggest you not become too complacent about it. One wrong word during a spell can, as you have seen, make a great deal of difference. And if the spell goes awry while you are under attack..."

"I get it, Giles. Sheesh! You'd think I messed up all the time." She gave a haughty sniff and marched out the door ahead of Giles, who was wearing his "give me strength" expression as he pulled the door closed.

 

"Oh look, Spike. A ritual! A vampire ritual!" Buffy's voice was unnaturally loud and cheerful, causing the gathering of robed vampires to turn, snarling at the interruption.

Spike rolled his eyes at the early warning she'd given. "Brilliant," he said, much less enthusiastically, mentally counting their opponents and shaking his head. "You wanted to kill vamps – have at it. You should get your fill now."

There was just the slightest hesitation in Buffy's voice. "Don't you... aren't you going to help me?"

"Got your back, Slayer," he said gruffly. "But I thought you wanted me to stay out of your business?"

As the first few robed vampires reached them and Buffy began dodging fists and feet, she felt the familiar anger flare. "I do!" she grunted, staking the first vampire to come within reach. Her irritation at Spike and her embarrassment over what they'd done combined to give her a power and purpose much different from her usual quippy and stress-free slaying. Within seconds, there were three fewer vampires and the remaining ones were slowing down and assessing the situation. They cast wary eyes at Spike, but when he just settled onto a tombstone and lit a cigarette, they turned all their attention on the Slayer. 

Without waiting for the other vamps to form a plan of attack, Buffy took the fight to them, using her fists and feet as much as her stake. She worked her way through the crowd, somehow always aware of where each opponent was and able to evade or injure even those trying to get behind her. By the time the last vampire was on the ground moaning, she was tiring badly. She went from body to body staking them as quickly as she could. When there was nothing left of the ritual gathering except the small fire and the robe of the long gone intended victim, she dropped to the ground and fell onto her back, panting for air.

Too late, she realized that her position was almost identical to the one she'd been in not so long ago. _At least this time I'm wearing my pants._ She snickered to herself, turning her head languidly when Spike settled onto the grass facing her, his back against a tombstone and his legs drawn up. He rested his hands on his knees and cocked his head.

"Care to share, pet?"

"Not really." She smiled to take the sting out of her words, surprised to find that she was no longer angry.

"Feeling better, are you?"

She shrugged as best she could from her position on the ground. "Well, I don't feel like beating you to a pulp anymore. I guess that's better."

He was gazing down at her, his expression uncomfortably like the one he'd been wearing since the spell. Embarrassed, she dropped her eyes, only to find them landing on his hands and the bulge just visible through his open knees.

"I thought we were cured!" She sat up abruptly. "What's the hell is wrong with you?"

Spike shifted, adjusting himself now that he knew she was aware of her effect on him. "Never seen yourself fight, have you, love?" he said enigmatically.

"What's that got to do with anyth—"

"Like poetry in motion, you are. All grace and power and righteousness." He nudged her foot with his. "Got nothing to do with the spell, pet. It's what watching you fight has always done to me. Hell, fighting _with_ you used to leave me too hard to walk sometimes."

Buffy looked away, blushing. "TMI, Spike."

"Not something I should have shared?" he teased, relenting when he saw her face begin to shut down. "I'm sorry, Slayer. Didn't mean to burst your 'we're all back to normal' bubble like that. But 'normal' doesn't mean quite the same thing to me as it probably does to you."

" _Are_ we back to normal?" Buffy didn't look at him as she asked her question.

"Well, I'm over here and you're over there, and nobody's ripping off anybody's clothes, so I'd say so." 

She ignored the trace of sadness she thought she detected in his voice. "Well, okay, good then. I guess we can tell Giles and Willow not to worry about doing another spell." She stood up and waited for him to spring to his feet before turning to walk back to the dorm. Spike fell into step beside her, walking close enough to feel like a companion, but not so close as to accidently touch her anywhere. They were approaching the campus when Buffy realized he hadn't dropped off to go to his crypt. "Where are you going?"

"Just seeing you home, pet."

"Spike—"

"Not planning on coming in," he growled. "I just think you might be a little tired after that fight. Thought it would be a good idea to see you safely home."

She nodded, then gave him a sidelong glance. "So, I guess William wasn't just part of the spell, huh?"

"Tell anybody about this and I'll tear your heart out!"

"Okay, that sounds more like spelless Spike," she giggled. "I know you—" She pushed him behind a minivan, her hand over his mouth muffling his growl. "Shhhhh," she whispered. "There are soldiers up there."

Leaving Spike crouched behind the van, Buffy stood up and peered ahead to the pool of light at the entrance to the campus. Two cammo-clad men were talking in low tones, scanning every coed that came past them. Buffy watched long enough to know that they were paying special attention to the blondes that approached. She dropped back to where Spike was crouched, a low but steady rumble coming from his throat.

"I think they're looking for me," she hissed.

Spike's rumble increased to a full-throated snarl that was cut off abruptly as he grabbed his head and winced.

"Bloody hell. I can't even _think_ about killing those wankers," he complained. 

"You can't kill them," Buffy said, poking him in the arm. "We've got to get out of here. I can't kill them either, and I'll bet anything there aren't just the two we can see."

Spike nodded. "No question, pet. After what you did to the last squad they sent after you, they've probably got a whole battalion hiding out behind those brick walls."

"Lets get back to Giles'. He said to let him know if they bothered me again."

"Don't know what he thinks he's going to do," Spike scoffed. "Doubt the Council of Wankers—"

"You'd be surprised where the Council has their grubby little fingers," Buffy interrupted. "Or who they've got the goods on, anyway."

"Now that I _can_ believe," he muttered as they crept backwards, keeping the parked cars between them and the still alert soldiers. As soon as they were safely out of line of sight, they sprinted back towards Giles' apartment complex, arriving just as he was returning from taking Willow home.

"I thought you two were going to stay apart?" he said, glaring at Buffy. "Not that it matters now, but you wouldn't have known that."

"Why wouldn't we know it?" Buffy frowned. "We were the first to know." She trusted Spike's sense of self-preservation would prevent him from explaining just how they knew.

"You knew that we did the spell?" Giles unlocked the door and ushered them in, closing it firmly behind them. He frowned as Buffy turned the deadbolt and Spike went around pulling the blinds closed.

"Well, I mean, we can tell we... You did a spell?"

"Yes. I found the word that had been missing from Willow's original spell that would have allowed her to successfully break it. I'm not clear on why it didn't affect the rest of us; we all seem to have recovered without any lingering effects – but that's neither here nor there. The point is, we fixed it so you should be free of the... urges that were making you so miserable." He beamed at them, his smile fading as he watched them exchanging looks he couldn't read.

"What... what time did you do the spell?" Buffy asked, barely controlling the panic in her voice. She felt Spike step closer to her, offering silent support. _He's still got my back._

"Oh, quite early on," Giles said, narrowing his eyes at the body language he was reading. "Not long after you left here, actually. It was a simple matter, once she showed me her words, to redo the spell with the correct wording, and then to break it again. It should have gone into effect immediately. Did it not?" he asked, glaring at Spike's impassive face and Buffy's ashen one.

Giles was not a stupid man. He grabbed the stake that Buffy had dropped on the table and raised it. "I warned you," he said, stepping toward the couple and pushing Buffy aside.

"No, Giles!" She pushed back, deflecting his aim and placing herself in front of Spike again. "It wasn't his fault!"

"The devil it wasn't." No one made any attempt to pretend not to understand the subject. "No spell means he was in control of his actions...." His anger faded into disappointment as he looked at Buffy's flaming face. "As were you," he said with a deep sigh, laying the stake back on the table. "I should have realized that," he added in as close to an apology as he intended to come. Spike's nod of acknowledgment told him the vampire understood.

Giles slumped into the chair he'd been using when he and Willow had celebrated their handling of the "Spike situation" as they'd taken to calling it.

"Bloody hell," he muttered. "I would have sworn we..." He glanced up at them, frowning at Spike's proximity to Buffy. "But did you just say you know it's broken?"

"Yes," Spike said shortly.

"We're fine now," Buffy put in. "It's out of our systems and no one is ever going to mention it again."

 

**Chapter Twelve Compliance - or close enough to it.**

"How can you be so sure?" Giles peered at them with suspicion, not at all comfortable with how close together they were standing. "That you're fine, obviously, not that no one will ever mention this again."

"Look at us. We're here. In the same room. Standing close together. And we're not... we're not even flirting. We're not even thinking about it, are we, Spike?" She turned just in time to catch him running his eyes up to hers. She glared at him, wondering briefly what he'd been looking at before she turned around. "Are we?" she repeated, in her best "give the right answer or you're dust" tone of voice.

"Yeah, yeah, Slayer. Don't get your knickers in a twist. I don't want to get into them anymore." He shrugged and walked to the easy chair, throwing himself into it. "Tell the man what we came here to tell him."

Giles narrowed his eyes at the sprawling vampire, then remembered all the locking and closing up that had taken place when they first came in. "Yes, by all means. Please tell me why you are visiting me this late in the evening."

"The commandos, the ones that tried to trap me the other night? They were standing guard outside campus, checking out all the blonde girls who came through the gates. At least, I think it was them. These guys were wearing regular Army uniforms, but...."

Giles frowned and glanced at the phone. "Perhaps it is time we told the Council about this situation."

Buffy turned to Spike triumphantly. "See? I told you."

"What do you expect the Council of Wankers to do?" Spike addressed his question to Giles who was checking his watch and doing some mental arithmetic. 

"You might be surprised at what the Council can do if one of their slayers is being threatened."

Spike barked out a laugh. "You mean they actually care if something happens to their cannon fodder? Tell me another one, Rupert."

"There is a difference between losing a slayer to the forces of evil and having her ability to do her duty interfered with by ignorant humans," Giles said stiffly. "I suspect they will not be happy to hear that a secret government organization is not only interfering by capturing and releasing vampires, but also by attempting to treat Buffy as another supernatural creature to be studied."

Studiously ignoring Spike's quick glance at his knee and his raised eyebrow, Buffy walked past him to perch on the couch. 

"So, what do you want me to do? If I go back to my dorm, they'll know where to find me. They probably know about your place too. That's why we locked the doors and pulled the blinds – but if they know who I am, they probably know who you are too. Riley could have told them, if he remembered meeting you – or even Dr. Inkfell... "

"You'll have to lie low until I can get in contact with the Council. Somewhere they won't think to look for you...."

"No," she said flatly as Spike opened his mouth.

"It's safe now, Slayer," he growled.

She stared at him challengingly. "Is it? Are you sure about that?" 

"I'm as sure as you are," he responded with his own challenging stare. "Aren't you sure, pet?"

Buffy turned her back and addressed Giles. "Is it too early to call?"

"A bit. Another hour or two and I should be able to ring someone who can sort this out. The Council has a great many contacts and is more than capable of ensuring complete compliance with their demands. It may take a day or two for the proper authorities to be notified, but I can assure you that at some point, this 'Initiative' is going to be considerably less secret."

"I can't hide out for two days! Giles...."

His intended reply was interrupted by the phone. They all stared at it, Buffy finally saying what they were all thinking, "It's never a good thing for the phone to ring this late at night."

Recovering himself, Giles snatched the still ringing instrument. "Yes?" He moved to the windows, pulling aside the curtains and peering out. He gestured to Spike and Buffy to turn off the lights as he continued, "I see. Yes. Yes, they are here, but we will take action immediately. Thank you, Willow."

In the now darkened room, he walked up to where Spike and Buffy were standing back to back and looking around for the threat. 

"That was Willow," Giles said unnecessarily. "It seems that your boyfriend—"

"Former boyfriend," Buffy said, ignoring Spike's "Too bloody right."

"Former boyfriend," Giles agreed with obvious impatience. "Be that as it may, he has called your dorm room to warn you that his organization is planning to capture you tonight. To that end, they have staked out the campus, your dorm and a squad is on its way here to search for you."

"I – we kicked their asses before. I can do it again." 

"They are armed with tranquilizing rifles. It won't be necessary for them to engage you in close quarters. You need to leave immediately and hide somewhere safe. And Spike cannot be of much assistance with that chip in his head," he added.

"My crypt, Slayer," Spike said, already moving towards the door. "They don't know it exists."

"How will we know when it's safe to come out? What am I going to eat? What if I need to wash my hair?" Buffy complained even as she followed him to the door. "I can't stay in there for two days!"

"We'll get a message to the Watcher somehow. If he drops some things off to the groundskeeper, old Hal will leave them at the door."

Leaving the discussion of how Spike already had a relationship with the groundskeeper for later, Buffy started to open the door, only to have him step in front of her.

"Hold up, Slayer. Let the man with the predator's senses check it out first."

Leaving the door shut, he moved to a window and slid it slightly open, staring out and listening carefully. When he was satisfied, he lowered the sash and nodded.

"Alright, pet, here's the situation. We've got heartbeats over to the left behind that wall. Three or four of them. We've got a black vehicle parked at the end of the lot, heartbeats coming from it. Voices approaching from the other end of the complex, but not close enough yet to worry about. If we can get out of the flat without using the front door..."

"There is a window in the bedroom upstairs. It opens to the back of the building."

Without further conversation, all three of them sprinted up the stairs and into the master bedroom. After Spike had peered out the open window and listened again, he whispered, "After you, Slayer." Buffy slid her legs over the sill and stared down into dark space. "I can't see anything," she grumbled. "You just want me to go first so I break my legs and you don't."

Spike's angry hiss in her ear almost made her fall off as his breath stirred her hair.

"There's nothing down there but grass. A lawn chair, but it's well away from where you'll be landing. Trust me."

"Famous last words. Trust the evil vampire," she said, taking a deep breath and pushing off. 

The drop to the promised damp grass was not a dangerous one for a slayer and she was soon crouched safely, looking around for any sign of soldiers. A whisper of air was her only warning that Spike had dropped immediately after her, landing as lightly as a cat to crouch beside her. Without speaking, he grabbed her hand and tugged her away from building. Moving from bush to tree to wall, they made their way out of the apartment complex, only stopping once when a roving patrol almost stumbled upon them. 

Spike forced Buffy to the ground, lying atop her and pulling his coat over them as he had when they were spying on Lowell House. Their blond heads were under a low-growing bush which she sincerely hoped didn't hold a nest of spiders. She held her breath, trying very hard to ignore the hard body lying on hers. Spike was so still she shivered slightly at the chilly reminder of what he really was. 

As soon as the danger was past, he rolled off and helped her to sit up. He raised his hand and brushed the leaves from her hair. "Are you cold, pet?" he whispered.

"I'm fine," she said, moving into another crouch and motioning for him to lead the way. "Let's get out of here."

They made their way to Restfield cemetery as quickly as they could while still remaining in the shadows and with Spike stopping every few minutes to listen intently before deciding it was safe to move to the next hiding place. By the time they reached the gates to his new home, Buffy was muttering under her breath about soldiers, arrogant professors and what she thought should be happening to them.

He grinned, relaxing a little now that they were away from anyplace they were likely to meet humans.

"Always knew you were a bloodthirsty little bint," he said. "You'd have made a great vampire – if you weren't a slayer."

"A slayer vampire. That's a scary thought," she shuddered.

"You've got no idea, pet. No idea at all." 

They slipped into Spike's crypt, carefully closing both doors behind them. By unspoken agreement, they pulled a large stone slab off a sarcophagus and propped it against door.

"Should keep out most nasties," Spike said. "And if not, we'll hear 'em coming."

Buffy looked around the dark room, unable to see anything except what was illuminated by the moonlight coming through the dirty windows.

"I guess we'd..." She stared in the direction of the entrance to the lower level.

"Can't have any light up here," he agreed. "Be safer down there."

Neither one moved to pull up the rug and expose the opening in the floor. After long minutes of throat clearing and foot shuffling, Buffy sighed. 

"This is silly. The spell is gone. We're fine. There's no reason why we can't be down there."

"Right you are, pet," he said, moving forward and pulling the rug and plywood back. "Let me go down and do the lights first, yeah?"

He dropped through the opening and was soon calling her to come down. A warm yellow glow flickered from the entrance. When she was standing on the ladder, Buffy paused and reached for the plywood cover, trying to drag it back carefully so as not to dislodge the rug. Suddenly, Spike was pressed up against her back, adding his somewhat longer arms to the task. Between the two of them they quickly had it back into place, hoping that the rug had remained flat and the door wouldn't be visible from the other side.

They remained on the ladder, Buffy unable to move until Spike did, Spike standing behind her with his arms now on either side of her body, holding onto the ladder.

"You said we'd be okay," Buffy breathed, trying to fight the urge to lean back against him.

"What if it wasn't a spell?" he murmured in her ear. "What if I still want you?"

"Then we might be in big trouble..." She gave into the need to feel him again, leaning back and letting him take all their weight on his arms. Immediately, he began to nuzzle her neck, dropping light kisses on it.

"Only if you want to be, love. Got control of myself now. Wouldn't force anything on you." Just as she turned around to face him, he continued, "But we are stuck here for awhile. May as well have something to do, yeah?" He waggled his eyebrows at her and she laughed even as she pushed him away.

"And there it is," she said with a wry smile as she ducked under one arm and dropped to the floor.

"There what is?" Spike's aggrieved question accompanied his own landing. 

"The reminder that this is just a way for you to pass the time," she said lightly, moving away and giving him a glare when he made to follow her.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, then shut it again as her body language made clear that she was serious. Nodding, he walked over to the pile of bed parts and began to lay them out on the floor. Buffy sat on the rugs they'd been sprawled on only a few hours before and tried to keep her eyes open as she watched him shed his coat and roll up his sleeves.

In very little time, it seemed, he had put the bed together and was wrestling with the box springs. His arms weren't long enough to get a grip around it and the air was soon filled with curse words – some Buffy understood and some she didn't. After giggling and watching for a few minutes, she gave in and grabbed one side.

"Here," she said. "It'll be easier with two of us."

"'bout bloody time you noticed that." His grumble was belied by the smile of thanks he gave her.

"But you were having so much fun," she teased, following him over to the mattress and picking up one side of it. It was soon deposited on the springs and Spike stood back with a satisfied nod. He pulled up a package of new bed linen and tossed it to Buffy.

"Here you go, Slayer."

"What? What do you mean, here I go? You want _me_ to make _your_ bed? Get real, Spike."

"You'll be the one sleeping on it, won't you? I built the damn thing, least you can do is put the bedding on it."

"Oh." 

As she absorbed what he'd said, she realized how late it was getting to be and how sleepy she actually was. Without any more complaining, she began to unfold the new sheets and shake them out. She made no comment about the black color except to mutter that she hoped the dye didn't come off on her clothes. She'd done the bottom sheet and was spreading out the top sheet when Spike appeared on the other side of the bed and silently began to help her smooth it out and tuck it in at the bottom. He held out his hand and she tossed him one of the pillows and the case for it, watching from the corner of her eye as he expertly stuffed the pillow into its case and tossed it back on the bed. Buffy finished her pillow and watched as he threw the down coverlet up in the air to drop softly over the bed.

"I'll just be over here," he said quietly, picking up a candle and carrying it over to the pile of rugs, which, to his vampire senses smelled like Buffy and sex. "Light won't bother you too much will it? I'm not quite ready to sleep yet." He took a book off the floor and settled down with his back against the dirt wall. 

Buffy shook her head and blew out the candles he'd left burning in the bed alcove. She was trying to decide what to do about her clothes when he stood up and, with a "Be right back", disappeared into the darkness at the far end of the room. She took advantage of his absence to shed her shoes, socks, jeans and jacket, getting into bed and pulling the covers up. Wishing she'd had time to get a change of clothes, and to replace the underwear Spike had ruined earlier, she tugged her shirt down as far as it would go and closed her eyes. Exhaustion took over and she never heard him return when his ears told him she was safely undressed and in bed.


	4. Thirteen through Twenty-one

**Chapter Thirteen Al Dente**

 

"I can't do this!" Buffy was pacing around the small sleeping area, pausing occasionally to kick at imaginary things. She threw herself back onto the unmade bed and kicked her bare feet until she got tired.

 

"Bloody hell, Slayer! Why didn't you tell me I needed to get some Ritalin for you?"

"Rita- what?" She snapped back up to glare at the vampire just emerging from the far end of the big room. "Where have you been?"

He set down the bags he was carrying and gestured to them. "Got you some breakfast - got coffee, too, but I've changed my mind about letting you have that!" He pulled two large lattes out of one of the bags and put them on top of a tall bookshelf out of Buffy's reach.

"I _want_ it," she whined. "Come on, Spike. Let me have it, please?"

"Oooh, I like the sound of that," he purred. "Say it again, luv."

"Say what again?" Buffy quickly reviewed what she'd said while staring wistfully at the lattes. "Oh, in your dreams! You are such a pig!"

He just shrugged and pulled some boxes from the other bag. "Here you go. Donuts, a breakfast burrito, and an Egg McMuffin. Pick your poison." He reached up and brought the lattes down, holding one in each hand. "If you promise drinking this stuff won't make you more hyper, I'll let you have one."

"I'll be fine," she muttered, examining the donuts. "I was just bored and I hate the idea of being stuck in here all day."

Spike nodded and stretched before skinning off his T-shirt. Before Buffy's astonished eyes, he slipped out of his boots and unzipped his jeans. "Might want to turn your back, luv," he said mildly.

"Wha— what are you doing?" Buffy's voice was more of a squeak than the authoritative slayer voice she had intended.

"I'm going to get into my own bed – now that my guest isn't using it – and get some kip. Make yourself at home, just try not to make too much noise, yeah?"

When Buffy didn't turn around as he'd suggested, but continued to stare at him with her mouth open, he shrugged and dropped his jeans, stepping out of them without any sign of embarrassment. He ignored her flaming face, and much too late spin in the other direction, sliding into the bed and burrowing under the covers. By the time Buffy took a timid peek over her shoulder, his head was under one of the pillows and his body was still.

 

Several hours later, when Buffy had eaten, drunk her latte, and run out of things to do besides avoid looking at the comfortable bed and the sleeping man now occupying most of it, she went up the ladder to take another look around the actual crypt level. She moved the "door" only as far as was necessary for her to squeeze through, leaving it where she could easily pull it back into position if and when she returned to the bedroom.

There was enough light coming in the high, dirty windows that she could see the stone interior fairly well. Well enough to decide the furniture she and Spike had placed earlier didn't please her newly proprietary eye; she amused herself for a while rearranging tables and the one chair until the decor suited her. 

"I wonder what the feng shui rules are for crypts?" she muttered as she brushed off the top of a sarcophagus and put some candles on it. Suddenly a sound from outside brought her dashing to the wall to try to listen through the window.

"This is a waste of time," she heard a male voice grumble. "Who would hide in a cemetery, for fuck's sake?"

"Somebody who spends a lot of time in them," came another voice – one that tickled Buffy's memory just a little. 

"I still don't see why we didn't just rough up that old guy -– whatever he is to her – a little more. He'd have caved sooner or later."

Buffy's hand crumbled the stone she was grasping as she realized who they were talking about.

_Giles! They're talking about beating up Giles!_

She listened to the soldiers wrenching open the outer door, and enjoyed their bewildered curses when they encountered the second heavy oak barrier. "What the hell? Who's buried in here, King Tut?"

"Looks like a family mausoleum. Probably got heirlooms or something in there."

Buffy watched with wide eyes as the very heavy stone she and Spike had placed in front of the door shuddered, but remained firm.

"Aw, the hell with it. The door's stuck. The thing probably hasn't been opened in fifty years. If we can't open it, there's no way some chick did – I don't care how strong she is."

"All right, let's move on. Maggie really, really wants this girl. If we don't find her here, we've got three more cemeteries to go through before dark."

She heard the clang of the metal door as it was slammed back into place, but waited until she was sure they were gone before slipping back through the opening in the floor and pulling the plywood and rug into place.

She assumed Spike had slept through the close call, but when her eyes had adjusted to the small amount of light coming from the one guttering candle, she saw that he was lying on his back, arms behind his head, watching her.

"You heard?"

He tapped his ear. "Hard to sleep through all that banging and grunting." He smiled at her. "Couldn't budge it, could they?"

Buffy shook her head. "I can't decide if I'm happy we're safe, or pissed off that they were so sure I couldn't have opened that door by myself."

As she talked, she'd been walking towards Spike, stopping in confusion when she realized that the only place to sit was on the bed. The bed in which Spike was lying... naked. He watched her for a second, grinning at her obvious embarrassment and indecision, then shook his head and moved over, carefully keeping the sheets pulled up to his waist.

"Relax, Slayer. Sit down and lets talk this out."

"Talk what out?" Buffy perched gingerly on the side of the bed, resolutely keeping her eyes turned away from the chest and arms so tantalizingly close. 

"I think we need a plan. First thing is to find a way to contact your watcher so we know what's what."

"Oh! Poor Giles! I almost forgot. They've talked to him – one guy said they should have roughed him up more."

"Stupid gits." Spike shook his head in disgust. "I watched that man stand up to Angelus' tender attentions. Those amateurs wouldn't have got anything but tired."

Buffy forgot about the naked chest and stared at Spike, comprehension dawning in her face. "You like him, don't you? All that poking fun at his tweed coats and being a watcher... you're faking it."

Spike looked away and cleared his throat. "Just know there's more to the man than what it seems on the surface.... "

"Too bad you didn't meet Ripper. You two would have bonded." Buffy grinned, laughing when Spike asked, "What's a Ripper?"

"Giles was! And it's not "a" Ripper, it's _The_ Ripper. That's who he was when he was young. A couple of years ago, one of his old buddies brought this weird candy to town, and it made everybody... and then my mom and Giles... " She stopped and wrinkled her nose at Spike's puzzled face. "I guess you had to be there."

"I guess." Spike shrugged and sank back down into the bed. He caught Buffy yawning and patted the bed suggestively.

"I need a couple more hours before I'm ready to go back out to get more things to keep you fit and happy. Care to join me?"

"Depends," Buffy said. "Who am I talking to – Spike or William?"

"I can't be both?" Spike's lip came out in an exaggerated pout and Buffy swallowed hard. 

"I don't know. Can you?"

He sighed and nodded, meeting her eyes with a steady gaze. "I can if you need me to. Wouldn't be my first choice, but if that's what you want..."

"Why can you do it now – with me in the same bed – and a few days ago you said you couldn't even stay in the same room with me?"

"That was the spell, wasn't it? I wanted you, you wanted me, and I could tell you did. There was no resisting that. Not the same thing now. I know how to take no for an answer, Buffy."

Buffy yawned again, covering her mouth with her hand. Spike smiled and rolled over to face away from her.

"Get some more sleep, luv. Something tells me we might have a busy night tonight."

Buffy stared at his bare back, then pulled the sheet up all the way to his shoulders. 

"Tucking me in, or hiding temptation?"

She poked him. "You wish! I'm just covering you up because I'm going to use the comforter." She followed words with actions, lying down and pulling the fluffy coverlet over her clothed legs. She stared at Spike's inert body again, bit her lip, then moved one side of the cover over him. She moved marginally closer so that they both had enough warm cover to be comfortable, alert for any sign that he was planning to take advantage of her generosity but he remained still. Her eyes drifted shut and she relaxed again.

She woke to find the candle had finally guttered out and she was in complete darkness, not even a trace of light to relieve the inky atmosphere. She also had, at some point, moved close enough to be resting her back against the immobile one behind her. Spike wasn't breathing, feeling so much like the corpse that he was that Buffy forgot briefly that he didn't need to breathe; her heart rocketed until she remembered and relaxed again.

Sleep, however, was elusive and she became more and more conscious of the body laying only a thin sheet away from hers. Moving slowly and carefully, she shifted until she was facing his muscular back rather than leaning against it. The sheet she'd pulled up over him had once again slid down his body, leaving his smooth skin only inches away. In spite of the utter darkness, her slayer senses as well as the scent that said "Spike" to her kept her very aware of who she was in bed with, and how close together they were.

She rested one palm between his shoulder blades, wishing briefly that the spell had lasted long enough for them to actually make use of the bed before it broke. She was lifting her hand before she gave in to the urge to run it over the still body beside her when it suddenly was trapped in a powerful grip. Moving with the speed that made fighting him so different from any other vampire she'd faced, he'd turned and captured her hand with one of his before she could pull away. 

Shoving the tangled cover down to their feet, he purred, "Is it time to get up, love? Is that why you're touching me?"

Buffy seized on the excuse immediately, nodding her head vigorously and demanding that her mouth and brain function properly. "Ye...yes. I mean, I think it might... I can't tell. It's too dark in here."

He pulled her hand to his mouth, kissing her open palm and sending a thrill up her arm that lodged in her throat. Still holding her hand, he moved his lips until he had taken her index finger in his mouth and begun sucking on it slowly. His blunt teeth scraped lightly as he moved his mouth around on her finger. She felt him smile against her hand as he let the finger slide out of his mouth. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Buffy attempted to speak. 

"Guh... you... gah... aaaah..."

"It _is_ dark," he whispered, moving his lips from her palm to her wrist and nibbling his way up her arm. "No one can see us. We can't even see each other. Nothing but darkness here... we can be anybody we want to."

Buffy whimpered as his lips paused to suck on the soft skin on the inside of her elbow, gasping when he began moving up her arm again.

"You taste so good, Buffy. You have perfect skin, perfect flesh. Just soft enough, just firm enough. Al dente as the Italians would say."

"O... okay," she said, her voice shaky. "There's something very wrong about having a vampire's teeth on me and being compared to spaghetti...." She tried to pull away, but found herself moving closer instead. Spike's mouth was now on her shoulder, nudging away the strap of her tank top as he kissed his way across her collarbone. "Where's William? I want... I need William!"

Without moving his mouth from her skin, and working his way up her neck, Spike said, "He's out writing bad poetry to you. Left me in charge."

"Oh!" Buffy arched her neck to give him better access. "I think that was a very bad idea...."

There was no reply this time as Spike's lips brushed across hers, moving lightly back and forth until she grabbed his lower lip in her teeth and growled, "Dammit, Spike. If you're going to kiss me, will you just hurry up and do it?"

"Thought you'd never ask." He fastened his mouth on hers, igniting the same heat that she'd so easily blamed on a spell the last two times it happened. She was very grateful for the sheet that separated her clothed body from his so very not clothed one, but to her surprise, he only kissed her – skillfully and with great enthusiasm, but he never tried to take it any further.

It was Buffy – whose entire body was responding to the soft, supple lips on hers, the tongue that teased and caressed her own, and the man whose entire focus seemed to be on keeping her incoherent and unable to speak – who slid her hands around his bare torso and pulled herself against his body. Spike's growl that vibrated against her chest only deepened her need to feel his skin against hers, and she tore her lips away long enough to skim her tank top over her head. 

Spike fastened his mouth on one nipple, pushing the skimpy bra out of his way and rolling Buffy onto her back. His slender hips rested on her closed thighs as he alternated between her breasts until she was holding his head in place and wishing he had two mouths. He began to trail his lips down her ribcage, stopping when he got to her belly button and teasing it with his tongue. Buffy's "Oh God!" as she arched into his mouth, rather than encouraging him as she'd expected, made him stop.

He moved back up her body and gave her a light kiss before resting his forehead against hers. Even with his vampire-enhanced night vision, he couldn't actually see her eyes in the darkness, but his other senses told him she was staring back at him with doubt just beginning to cloud her expression.

"You stopped," she said, a breathy catch in her voice.  
"Did. Want to be clear on what's going on here. William would be happy to lie here kissing you all day. It was all I intended, till you put those hot little hands on me." As though to make his point, he brushed his lips across hers, pulling her bottom lip into his mouth and biting it gently. "There's no spell to blame this on, Buffy. It's just you and me, and if you're going to regret it, tell me now."

"That..." She gasped a little as he shifted his weight and she felt the unmistakable evidence of his arousal. She recovered her voice and whispered, "That sounds suspiciously like William to me. I don't think Spike cares if I'd regret it or not...."

Buffy couldn't see his face, but she couldn't miss the disappointment in his voice, or the way her body protested when he rolled off to lie beside her. "Don't think you know me quite as well as you think you do, pet," he said, dropping a kiss onto her bare shoulder before moving just far enough away that they weren't touching.

_What the hell? How did I go from happy, ho-bag Buffy to not getting any Buffy?_

"Will— Spike... I didn't mean... I... What just happened here? Don't you want me?"

In response, he took her hand and placed it on his thoroughly aroused cock. He couldn't prevent his groan when she automatically squeezed it. Through gritted teeth he said, "That's got to be one of the stupidest questions you've ever asked. I've done nothing _but_ want you since that soddin' spell that had us thinking we were in love. Want you so much I can't think about anything else. But..." He sighed and with another groan, he moved her hand back onto her own body. 

"But what?" The righteous indignation in her voice just barely disguised the humiliation she felt at having her obvious offer turned down.

"But .." He shook his head, then snarled at himself. "Nothing. But nothing. You're willing, and I'm a bloody idiot..." As quickly as he'd moved away, he rolled back on top of her, pinning her hands over her head and pressing his hips into her. Buffy's anger and embarrassment temporarily overcame her relief at once again being under his muscular body, and she wriggled under him.

"Maybe I don't want to anymore," she said. Although she was trying to pull her hands loose from his, the rest of her body was pressing into Spike's and her thighs fell open to allow his hips drop between them. They both gasped when his cock pressed against the seam in her jeans. Still struggling feebly to convince herself she was too offended to give in, Buffy gasped, "I don't want... I want William to come back..."

Spike growled as he took both of her hands in one of his, using the free hand to unhook her bra and unfasten her jeans. 

"William has left the building, Slayer.”

 

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Report in, Agent Finn. What do we know?"

"We know that Buf- the Slayer hasn't been to her dorm since early yesterday. We thought she was at Rupert Giles' apartment, but when we went in, there was no sign of her." He shifted uncomfortably. "We also think it's possible that Hostile Seventeen is with her."

"She's harboring a hostile? Well, so much for the legends about what a slayer does. That pretty much ties it up. She's to be treated no differently than any other subterrestrial."

"She has to surface eventually," Graham said, his disgruntled tone as much a result of a night and day spent chasing the elusive slayer as it was the lack of sleep.

"Quite true." Maggie gazed at her weary team of crack commandos, her expression softening briefly. "All right. Stand down for now. Get some rest. She has show to up somewhere, at some point. We'll get her. And then we'll see just what it means to be a mythological slayer of demons."

Johnson, a relatively new member of the team, raised his hand. "But, Ma'am," he said, "if the slayer is only a myth, why do we think this girl is one?"

"I have it on good authority from one of our professors here that at one time there was such a... creature. Apparently, in the legends, they often looked like young girls. Obviously, there is no such thing. There are a couple of other possibilities. Perhaps she is a more or less human girl who has been enhanced in some way...." She cleared her throat and looked away from the stronger than normal young men in front of her. "But I think we have to assume there is something demonic in her make-up. Certainly the fact that Hostile Seventeen has been seen in her company is proof of that."

Riley raised his hand. "I'm sure if she was seen with Hostile Seventeen, it was because she was planning to slay it. She may have had a good reason for not doing it in public, but I'm sure she will do it eventually."

"I'd rather we handled that ourselves," Maggie said. "I want that chip back to reuse on a perhaps more tractable hostile." 

 

In spite of the roughness with which Spike had removed her bra and unfastened her jeans, he made no attempt to take them off. Instead, he indulged in more bone-melting kisses that soon had her breathing hard and whimpering low in her throat. When his hand stroked her breast, he circled the nipple with his fingers before cupping the whole breast and rubbing it gently. His touch remained light and caressing, always arousing, never demanding. Only the way she could feel his lips curve into the occasional smile told her that he was very aware of what he was doing to her.

The utter darkness meant that Buffy's entire being was focused on her sense of touch and her sharpened sense of hearing; although Spike's appreciative murmurs as he moved his lips around her neck and down to her breasts were the only sounds in the underground room. With a sigh of surrender, Buffy relaxed and let herself sink into the sensations being created by the invisible lover worshipping her body with his mouth and hands.

When they seemed to be in his way, she wriggled out of her jeans, allowing Spike to pull her panties down with his teeth, then sank back on the bed, legs sprawled, and waited for him to please her. And waited... After what seemed a very long time during which she couldn't even hear him anywhere, she flushed in embarrassment and pulled her legs together. She could feel the slight dip in the mattress that meant Spike was still beside her, but she couldn't hear him breathing or feel him making the slightest movement.

She was just about to jump off the bed in an angry and blind search for her clothes when she felt the faintest movement of air over her skin. It took her several seconds to realize that Spike was running his hands over her body, hovering just far enough above her skin to create air movement, but not close enough to actually touch it. She relaxed again as he caressed every inch of exposed skin, without ever actually touching her. By the time he had worked his way from her toes up to her face, she was breathing hard and biting her lip to keep from crying out in frustration.

She felt his fingertips just barely brush her cheek and lips, and then settle gently on her throat as he began kissing her again. He pressed against the scars left by the Master and Angel, massaging them gently. "If I'd bitten you, I wouldn't have torn you up like this, Buffy," he whispered, moving his lips to her ear and sucking the lobe into his mouth. As he nibbled on that small piece of flesh, he moved his hand from her throat across her collarbone and down to her chest, trailing his fingers between her breasts and down to her navel. Her breathing and heart rate sped up in anticipation of his next move.

As though sensing her impatience, he gave a soft laugh and murmured, "Relax, love. Let Spike take care of you. Let me make love to you the way I wanted to that first time. All you have to do is lie there and enjoy it." He took both her hands in his and stretched them over her head, encouraging her to hang on to the heavy wooden slats of the headboard. "Let me show you what I can do..."

To make his point, his mouth traced a path from her earlobe, past the scars – which he paused to suckle on briefly – and down to her collarbone. Following the same path as his fingers, he kissed and licked his way across her upper chest, working his way back and forth and dropping lower with every pass from one side to the other. Buffy's sigh of relief when he finally reached her breasts was short-lived as he spent several more minutes nibbling and kissing them, but avoiding the nipples now standing to little points.

His free hand was lightly running around her rib cage, making the occasional foray to tickle the bottom of each breast. Every time he dropped it down to her lower ribs, she sucked in her breath with a gasp that made him smile again. 

"You think you're funny, don't you," she muttered as she felt his lips curl into another smile. She could sense his headshake as he dropped his hand even lower and began playing with the curls covering her mound. In spite of her fierce determination not to give him the satisfaction, Buffy felt her hips tipping up to meet his teasing fingers as a whimper escaped her open lips.

"I think I'm very good at what I do," he finally responded, sliding one finger into her damp folds and spreading the moisture he found there. "I just want to be sure you take the time to appreciate it."

Buffy's combined growl and moan told him she was reaching the end of her ability to allow him to dictate the pace, and he sighed as he moved down her body.

"Such an impatient bint, you are, Slayer. I see I need to teach you how to savor things..."

As he finished speaking, his mouth replaced the finger that had been steadily caressing her, causing her to arch up with a small shriek. In only a few seconds, he had teased her into a frenzy of gasps and moans. Although she obediently kept her hold on the bed slats, the rest of her body was writhing and her head was tossing from side to side, her "oh God, oh God, oh God" repeating over and over like a mantra. When Spike took her clit into his mouth and bit down gently, the force of her reaction broke the two slats she'd been holding. Her legs came up and wrapped around his shoulders, holding him to her while she shuddered and arched beneath him.

This time, there was no light to show her how debauched she looked, and no fully clothed vampire lying beside her to make her embarrassed at her condition. Rather, the lassitude she felt allowed her to lie beside Spike's very naked body and even rest her hand on his hip with no sense of shame or dismay. The sheet that had been between them was long gone, thrown to the bottom of the bed at some point while she was too wrapped up in what Spike was doing to her to worry about the only barrier between them. 

"I think I savored..." she finally said, turning to face him when he gave a full-throated chuckle.

"Told you I was good, luv." Sounding much too proud of himself, he kissed her on the tip of her nose and then nuzzled her shoulder. 

"You are so full of yourself! If I wasn't quite so... I'd do something about that."

"What would you do?" His voice was a husky whisper as he brought his arm around her and pulled her closer. "What would you do to make me less..." he took her hand and placed on his swollen cock, "....full?"

Buffy gave an embarrassed laugh, but kept her hand on him and began to stroke and squeeze. The sheer lack of light and inability of either one of them to see anything gave her courage she might have lacked had she been able to see herself. "Oh, I'll think of something," she said, leaning forward until she could put her mouth on his chest. "Let's see how well you do at savoring..."

Removing her hand, which earned her a muffled whimper, she began to kiss her way down his body, stopping to bite each nipple gently, then harder when his growl shook her lips. He couldn't smother the "yes" that escaped, and Buffy smiled her own satisfaction against his skin. "Payback's a bitch," she murmured as she moved down his body one inch of skin at a time.

By the time she reached his sharp hipbone and began to follow it to the juncture of his hip and thigh, he was taking unnecessary deep breaths and the muscles in his stomach were jumping. Without touching the body part he was pushing toward her, she continued her kissing and licking, interspersed with small bites that she had already noticed evoked the kind of sounds she was looking for. _Biting makes Spike hot – good to know._

When she finally ran her tongue across the top of his cock, pushing the foreskin away and licking vigorously, he gave up his attempts to remain silent. "Oh, bloody... like that, luv... " When Buffy's stroking and licking had him babbling things she wasn't sure she really wanted to hear, she took him in her mouth and began to suck as hard as she could. As she rolled his balls in her hand, she felt them drawing up, but before she could make a conscious decision about what that meant and what she was going to do about it, Spike surprised her by wrenching her head up and onto his heaving chest. He held her there for a full minute, stroking her hair with one hand, but keeping her hands away from his cock with the other. When his breathing had slowed, he released his hold, but continued to stroke her head.

"Problem?" Buffy couldn't keep the smirk out of her voice, and was rewarded with another growl.

Suddenly his hands were under her arms and he yanked her up to his mouth, plunging his tongue into hers and kissing her in desperation. Her hips were now just above his, and she could feel his cock rubbing against her thigh. The kiss ended as abruptly as it had begun, and Spike grabbed her ass with both hands.

"Need to be in you," he said, whether by way of explanation or as a demand, Buffy wasn't sure. He lifted, then lowered her slowly, sighing in relief and contentment when he was fully seated and Buffy was sitting up on him, his cock now buried inside her. They remained like that for a moment, neither able to see anything, but completely aware of each other. The heavy darkness felt almost alive as Buffy strained to see anything of the man beneath her, but there was nothing but blackness, the slender hips between her thighs and the intimate connection that she could feel in every cell of her body.

Eventually, Buffy began to squeeze her internal muscles around him, squeaking in surprise when his cock twitched in response. For several moments, they remained still, their only movements an internal contest to see who would succumb first to the steadily building tension. As Buffy bit her lip and tried to ignore the way he was stroking nerves she hadn't realized she owned, she began to notice that he felt different from what she could remember of their first, brief, intense encounter. Acting on a hunch, she leaned forward to feel his face. His "sorry, luv" slurred around the fangs she found there. "Thought it wouldn't matter if you couldn't see me."

"It's... it's okay. I just wasn't sure... But it's okay. It's what you are." In spite of her words, her heart began pounding faster as her body reacted to being trapped in the dark with a vampire in full game face, and she had to fight the urge to throw herself off his body.

"Just cause it's what I am doesn't mean you need to be reminded of it now, when you're vulnerable," he said, reading her body's reaction and unconsciously tightening his hands on her hips. "Don't want you to think of me as..." 

Buffy leaned in and shushed him with her lips, being careful to avoid the fangs. She brushed her hand over the brow ridges and down to his still full lips, touching one fang carefully. Spike was holding his breath as she explored his face with her hands and lips. Even his cock seemed to be waiting for her to tell him what to do. 

"I can't see you," she whispered. "Remember? We can be anybody or anything we want to be. Isn't that what you said?" She sat up and wriggled her hips a little, then resumed her squeezing. "And anyway, I think I kinda like it..."

"Playin' with fire, there," he said, letting out a relieved breath and pushing up into her. "Are you teasing the demon?"

"I thought I was teasing you," she said, beginning to rock her hips against him. Knowing he couldn't see what she was doing, she threw her head back and lost herself in the new sensations, arching her back and rubbing herself against him. He tried to answer her, but when she ground down on him, he lost his ability to talk and participate at the same time. He allowed Buffy to ride him until she had brought herself to a gasping release; then, with a quick flip, he rolled them over so that she was beneath him.

"My turn to drive, luv," he said as he began to move his hips, rotating them so that he was hitting those places she'd just discovered. Wrapping her arms and legs around his body, Buffy pulled him down, using her superior strength to hold him while she continued to grind against him making small whimpering noises as she did so. 

"Greedy little miss, aren't you?" he crowed, beginning to pound into her with more force. "Should have known you'd be a match for me, Slayer."

Buffy reached behind her head and grabbed two unbroken slats, using them as leverage as she tilted her hips up to meet his strokes. Released from her grip, Spike propped himself up with his arms, driving his cock even deeper as her legs kept them pinned together. 

"You should have known I'd be more than a match," she gasped, feeling his pace increase and urging him on. "Come on, vampire, show me what you've got."

Spike held on until he felt her once again seizing around him, then gave a snarling shout as he emptied himself. His hips kept jerking long after he had spent himself, stopping only when he collapsed upon her and buried his face in her neck. Buffy felt the shift as his game face softened into his normal human mien. It was several seconds before she realized that Spike was sucking on her old scars, and that every pull was bringing her closer to purring with sensual enjoyment. 

Filing that knowledge away as something to worry about later, she stroked his head with one hand, completely comfortable with his mouth on her neck and his cock still buried within her.

 

**Chapter Fifteen**

Eventually Buffy began to feel the chill of the underground room and she wriggled to get Spike's attention.

"Hey," she said. "Can you stop your imitation of a leech long enough to let me pull up the covers?"

"Sorry," he said, raising his head and fastening his mouth on her lips instead. "You just taste like ambrosia to me. All of you does."

"I don't even know what ambrosia is," she grumbled to hide her embarrassment. "But I do know I'm getting cold."

He rolled off immediately and fumbled around at the foot of the bed until he found the sheets and the fluffy quilt, which he pulled over both of them.

"Better, luv?" He curved himself around her, pulling her against his chest and breathing his question into her ear.

"Mmmmmmm" Still safe in the absolute darkness, Buffy allowed herself to cuddle back against him without considering the implications. She'd quit bothering to try to see, actually shutting her eyes against the ache caused by their fruitless efforts to make sense out of the utter nothingness around her. Instead, she nuzzled into the bicep upon which her head was resting and put her hand atop the muscular arm encircling her body. Their legs were tangled together, her body pressed back against his.

When his lips went once more to her neck, leaving light kisses and licking occasionally, she asked drowsily, "Are you going start sucking on me again? Cause, really? Giant, Spike's mouth-shaped hickeys all over my neck probably isn't a fashion accessory I really need. And I'm pretty sure Giles isn't going to appreciate the look..."

His chuckle shook them both, and he nipped lightly at her throat before responding.

"I expect you're right, pet. You're just so delicious, I can't help myself."

Buffy rolled over to face him, in spite of not being able to see the eyes she wanted to glare into.

"Is this some sublimated vampire-can't-bite-so-he-sucks kinda thing?"

"Prob'ly," he admitted cheerfully, taking advantage of her new position to nip at her lower lip. "Is that a problem?"

 

"Is it a _problem_? That'd you'd rather be biting me? Yeah, I think you could say it's a problem." 

Her body was rigid, her tone icy as she turned her head away from his nibbling mouth. Only the genuine confusion in Spike's voice kept her from driving her knee into the parts only inches away.

"But... Buffy... Slayer...." He sighed and loosened his grip on her no longer pliant body. "Doesn't mean I want to kill you. For vampires, biting is part of making—shagging. Even if I _could_ bite you, it wouldn't be to kill you... or for food...."

"Oh? Then what exactly would it be?" There was no forgiveness in her voice, nor did she relax her tensed muscles. One hand rested against his chest as if prepared to shove him away should it become necessary.

His voice hardened a little to match the anger rolling off her. "You know what, _Slayer?_ I'm guessing you really don't want to know exactly what it would be. All you need to know is that I wouldn't have hurt you if I could."

The black atmosphere that had made it so easy to forget who they were was now a frustration as she struggled to see his eyes, his face, something she could read to help her understand if the pain she thought she detected under the anger in his voice was real or her imagination. When he sighed and rolled onto his back, leaving one arm under her head, but taking the other one away, she followed his example by rolling onto her own back and staring into the darkness.

After long minutes of silence, Spike sighed again and gently pulled his arm out from underneath her head.

"It'll be dark soon," he said, sitting up and feeling around for his pants. "Time to get out and about." He found the jeans and pulled them on, taking his lighter out of his pocket as he did so. Although he really couldn't see in the complete darkness any better than Buffy could, his knowledge of where'd he put things and his predator's ability to sense his surroundings allowed him to find the candles and he soon had light flickering around them.

After so much time in complete darkness, even the soft light from the candles made Buffy squint and flinch away. When she opened her eyes again, Spike was standing by the bed, silently holding out her clothes. His face was closed, and Buffy had no idea what he was thinking as she took them from him and struggled to pull on her jeans without removing the quilt she was holding up to her chest. He shook his head with a sad snort and turned away.

"Go on, Slayer," he said. "Not goin' to try to peek at you this time. Just get dressed and tell me what you want me to bring back for your dinner."

The reminder that she was in hiding did nothing to improve Buffy's disposition. She sat up and quickly dressed, pulling on her socks and shoes before standing up.

"You... you can turn around now," she said with uncharacteristic meekness, before remembering that she was being hunted. "And I'm going out with you. I can't stay in here any longer than I already have. If Giles hasn't straightened this out yet, then I'll just go find Maggie Walsh and straighten her out myself."

"Don't be stupid, Slayer. You heard them yourself. That sadistic bitch thinks you're one of us. You'll be lucky if you don't end up with a chip in _your_ head."

"I'm going out," she repeated. "We'll go find Giles and make sure those soldiers didn't hurt him, and then—"

A sound from above had Spike holding up his hand for silence. He listened intently, then smiled.

"Think the Watcher's here. You stay down here while I make sure he's alone."

Without waiting to see if she'd obeyed, he jumped to the top of the ladder and pushed aside the cover. He went to the door, listened carefully for a second, then opened the inner door. He grinned as the sound of cursing accompanied Giles obviously unsuccessful attempts to open the heavy, outer door; he laughed aloud when the man muffled a shriek when it suddenly opened in front of him.

Giles glared at Spike, then pushed his way into the dark crypt.

"Where's Buffy?" he demanded, straining to see in the unlit upper area. His eyes caught the glow from the entrance to the lower level just as Buffy's head appeared. 

Ignoring Spike's muttered, "I told you to stay put," she ran up to Giles and studied his face. A black eye and a swollen lip told her what she wanted to know and her face hardened into something that made both Spike and her watcher flinch.

"They are sooo dead," she said, adding with a guilty shrug when Giles coughed, "Okay, not _dead_ dead, cause that would be wrong... but definitely fat lip, black eye, lots of bruises kind of dead."

"I'll live," Giles said shortly. "And you'll have to avoid them a while longer. The Council has put things in motion to have the operation shut down. It appears that there was something similar to what the Initiative is doing during the Second World War. The records are not complete, but they are quite clear."

"The Army was capturing demons and putting chips in their heads during WWII?"

"Not your army, pet," Spike's voice had taken on an entirely different note, one that reminded her that he was really well over a hundred years old and had been, at one time, one of the most feared vampires in Europe. "The Germans. How could I have forgotten? But I thought Peaches shut it down." He turned to look at the astonished watcher. "And how did the Council of Wankers know about it?"

Giles stared at him thoughtfully. "They wouldn't tell me how they knew – just that the records reflected an attempt by the Germans to develop an army of vampires. Apparently it was thwarted at the time. What are you talking about?"

Spike shrugged. "Ended up on a submarine for a while with some nasty pieces of work. We were eating our way through the crew when Peaches was sent to the rescue. You'd have to ask him how he got involved. All I know is we ended up with an American crew and he made me swim to shore. Wanker," he muttered as he turned away. "I'd almost forgotten about that."

Giles studied Spike intently while Buffy stared back and forth between the two of them, her impatience clear. When Giles was satisfied with whatever he was looking for in Spike’s face, he nodded.

"It would appear that the idea and some of the technology survived and has been resurrected by the Initiative. It may take some time for the inspectors to get here, but I'm confident that when they do, the program will be terminated. In the meantime," he turned to Buffy, "you would do best to remain out of sight until we can be assured you are safe."

"Giles..." Buffy's voice took on a whining tone that made him sigh and reach for his glasses. "I'm boooored...." A sound from the far side of the room made her glance away from her watcher just in time to see Spike throw a bottle against the wall. She bit her lip, and began, "Not... I didn't mean—" but Spike cut her off.

"You won't be 'bored' again, Slayer. I'm going out." He pointed to the bags in Giles's hands. "Looks like the Watcher brought you some food, so no need for me to hurry back, is there?"

"Spike..." There was no reply as he swept out the open door, and literally vanished into the air. Before Buffy could react to the shouts and snarls outside, several armed men burst into the crypt. Two of them fired simultaneously, hitting Buffy with tranquilizer darts that rendered her unconscious before she could to more than try to yank them out. She dropped to the floor and was immediately trussed up in a wire mesh net.

Riley stared at Giles with a mixture of guilt and satisfaction. "I told them if we followed you, you'd lead us to Buffy. We weren't expecting to get Hostile Seventeen at the same time, but we'll take it."

Trembling with fury, Giles gritted out, "Your organization is on its way out, you fool. I expect it to be shut down within days, if not hours." His demeanor was nothing like that of an unemployed librarian as he glared at the men. "I will be holding all of you personally responsible for any harm that comes to my slayer before that happens."

Riley looked momentarily uncomfortable and thoughtful, but the others laughed and carried their unconscious burden outside to drop her on the ground next to Spike's equally trussed up and unconscious body. Within minutes a large, black SUV pulled up and Buffy and Spike were tossed into the back. Giles stood in the doorway, fuming helplessly as the remaining soldiers kept their guns aimed at him.

"What do we do with him, Finn?" one of the asked, gesturing with his gun.

Riley shrugged. "It's dark. Let him go. If he can make it out of a Sunnydale cemetery at night in one piece, more power to him. If not...."

With no more conversation, the black-clad commandos faded away into the shadows, guns trained on Giles until they disappeared. When he was sure they had left, Giles pulled a stake from his pocket and patted his other pocket for his vial of holy water, then stalked toward the gates, already mentally composing his report to the Council.

 

Buffy recovered consciousness very slowly – using her ears and other senses to get an idea of her surroundings before she opened her eyes. Suddenly, she was grateful for the hours spent in darkness as she found herself able to sense things she probably would have missed if her eyes were open. She could hear the susurration of a ventilation system, could sense the barely discernible pressure that now said "underground" to her, and she could feel the presence of at least one vampire. 

Her face was pressed into a rough, flat surface, which was not quite a rug, but felt as if it would give good traction when she needed it. As she felt the vampire signature approaching, she gathered herself, then sprang to her feet, landing in a crouch with her eyes open. The vampire attacked, meeting only air as Buffy went from her crouch to a spot several feet away. He snarled and charged again, meeting a flurry of punches that sent him to the floor of the large open room. Buffy followed up with a kick to his temple that rendered him unconscious long enough for her to do a quick visual search for a weapon.

She saw nothing useful at first. The room was largely empty, the floor covered with some sort of artificial turf that gave it almost the same feel as hard ground. As the vamp began to stir, she spotted a wooden desk in the corner and quickly ran to it, snatching it up by one corner and breaking off one of the legs.

"It's a good thing you're skinny," she said to the vampire, driving the short make-shift stake into his chest as he staggered to his feet. She watched the dust float to the floor, gazing around with satisfaction. Motion from above caught her eye and she squinted at the windows she could see set into the walls above her. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted both Riley and Maggie Walsh.

 

**Chapter Sixteen**

Buffy put her hands on her hips and glared up at the faces peering down at her. She saw Professor Walsh lean down and a voice came out of speakers in the ceiling.

"That was fairly impressive, Ms. Summers. But nothing that my men couldn't have handled just as easily. Let's see how you do against multiple opponents, shall we?"

Before Buffy could respond, a formerly invisible door slid open and several harmless K'vkel demons were shoved into the room. They staggered a few steps, then stopped when they saw Buffy staring at them.

"Slayer! Slayer!" With much shrieking and waving of tentacles, they ran back to the now-hidden door and began to pound on it, begging to be allowed out. Buffy watched them for several minutes, then shook her head and shouted, "Cut it out! They aren't going to let you out, and I'm not going to slay you, so stop screaming. You're giving me a headache."

Buffy went over to the listing desk and broke off the rest of the legs, lining them up on the flat top and studying them with a critical eye. "I guess they'll do in a pinch, but I wish I had something longer and sharper to use."

Her comment set the K'vkel off on another round of screaming and pounding, which ended when she stomped over to them and said, "I told you to stop that! What's wrong with you?"

"Y...you aren't going to kill us?" the bravest demon asked, unable to hide his disbelief.

"Should I?"

"No! No, we're harmless. Well, not harmless, but we don't eat humans... or pets."

"Then stop acting like you're locked in a room with a man – er – demon-eating lion and help me figure out how to make better stakes out of these furniture legs." 

Buffy held up one of the stubby pieces of wood and glared at it. To her surprise, one of the smaller K'vkels approached timidly and pulled a tool from a pocket in what Buffy had assumed was funny-looking skin. He held it out, saying, "This might be strong enough to shave them to points."

Buffy handed him one of the feet and he began to scrape along the sides. The other demons quickly took out their own scraping tools and Buffy soon had four, still short, but now properly pointy stakes. She put one in her waistband, one up her sleeve and set the remaining two on the desk. Hopping up to sit on the desk beside the stakes, she sat there swinging her legs and looking bored.

"Ms. Summers," Walsh's voice rang out, her anger clear. "You have subterrestrials in front of you. I expect you to take care of them."

"I am taking care of them," Buffy said cheerfully. "If any big bad vampires come in, I can protect them with my new stakes."

There was some inarticulate muttering from the speaker, as though someone had put a hand over a microphone. Buffy heard, "...go ahead and do it. We can reuse it on something more tractable and it will give us a better sense of which is stronger."

It was several boring hours later when the door opened again and the K'vkels were allowed to scamper out while armed commandos held Buffy at bay. Instead of the door closing immediately, there was a small commotion outside it and then a familiar black-clad figure was thrust into the room. 

"Spike! You're all right!" She ran to him, heedless of the armed men backing out again.

He shook his head and winced. "As alright as I can be," he growled, fingering the back of his head. "Devil knows what they did to my poor noggin this time."

"Here," she demanded. "Let me see..." She stared at the new scar on his head and frowned. "They cut into your head again... In the same place."

"Brilliant. I can't wait to see what they want me to do now. Probably provide a punching bag for you to practice on."

"Actually, Hostile Seventeen," Maggie's voice came over the intercom, "we have removed the chip that was preventing you from attacking humans."

"Really?" He looked up at the window, his vampire face emerging as he stared at the woman responsible for causing him so much pain. "Don't suppose you'd like to come down here and explain how you did it, would you?"

"That won't be happening. All you need to know is that you've been freed from your leash, we will not be providing any food for you, and you and Ms. Summers will remain locked in that room until only one of you is left."

Buffy's face paled and she unconsciously moved closer to her stakes. Glaring up at Maggie, while trying to keep Spike in her peripheral vision, she said, "What the hell are you doing? And I can't stay in here all day. What if I have to pee?"

"You are facing, if stories are to be believed, one of the more dangerous vampires on the planet. A demon that has made it his life's work to kill little girls like you. Surely you have more immediate concerns than whether or not you will be allowed to relieve your bladder!" Maggie's tone was both disbelieving and angry as it occurred to her that the two natural enemies below her did not seem overly inclined to try to kill each other. "And you, Hostile Seventeen. Not only have we provided you with an opportunity to kill another 'slayer', if you do not, you will very likely starve."

"You think I'm going to... that she's _food?"_

"Why wouldn't you?" Maggie seemed genuinely confused, then interested. "Is there something wrong with her blood? Is whatever she takes to become so strong toxic to vampires?" She turned to speak over her shoulder. "Make note of his answers. If what Ms. Summers takes is toxic to vampires, it could be a good addition to what we give our men."

She looked back in time to see Spike muffling laughter while Buffy glared at him with her hands on her hips. He glanced up when he heard the woman stop talking, saying, "I think you could safely say that Slayers are toxic to vampires. But it isn't their blood that does it. It's those pointy little wooden things they carry around."

"So, then, you _could_ drink her blood with no ill effects to you?"

Spike snorted again while Buffy just gaped at the windows and wondered how someone so stupid could get a PhD in anything, let alone Science.

"Did you miss the part about the pointy sticks? Turning to dust is my idea of a very ill effect."

Maggie studied the two people below her, frowned as she tried to grasp what was going on. Buffy showed no fear of the vampire, and, in spite of his words, he seemed just as oblivious of any danger she might pose to him.

"You did understand me when I said the chip had been taken out, did you not?" Maggie seemed not yet ready to give up her view of "subterrestrials" as animals upon which she could experiment freely.

"I understood you. I'd say 'Ta', but I'm pretty sure you didn't do it to make me happy."

"I did it so that we could evaluate Ms. Summers abilities against something stronger than the first idiot we put in there with her. However, if you are not going to cooperate by attacking her..."

"That's what you want? To see us fight?"

Buffy snorted and dropped all but one of her stakes onto the desktop. She slipped the one remaining stake into the back of the pants and began to bounce on her toes.

"Got your weapon, pet?"

Buffy gave a feral grin. "You betcha. Got yours, vampire?"

"Always, luv," he said, slipping into game face. "I've always got mine."

Without further conversation, they began to spar, at first being careful not to hurt each other, but as it became clear that Spike's chip really was out, their blows became harder and they began to fight in earnest. Spike's hearing caught the sounds from above and as he temporarily pinned her to the floor, he murmured in her ear, "We're drawing a crowd, Slayer."

"It's 'cause we're awesome," she hissed back, flipping him off her body and springing to her feet before he recovered.

Before they could resume their deadly ballet, the door of the room burst open, and a squad of unarmed commandos entered, using tasers to herd a group of snarling vampires ahead of them. 

Maggie's voice drifted down again. 

"As entertaining as my men have found this to be, it hasn't really shown me that either one of you is as lethal as we've been led to believe. Let's see what you can do against numbers."

"Bloody hell," Spike breathed, eying the tasers and the hungry vamps.

"I'll see your bloody hell and raise you an 'oh, shit!'" Buffy whispered back.

She picked up her other stakes, holding one and putting the other in her sleeves. 

"Plan?" Spike asked as the vampires began licking their lips and stalking towards Buffy. The commandos, meanwhile were circling him.

Buffy shrugged. "I don't know about you, but I'm about to show them what a slayer really is." The hungriest of the vampires jumped toward her, only to be impaled on one of her stubby stakes. "Damn!" she said, as the stake disintegrated along with the vampire. She met the next one with a roundhouse kick that sent him careening into two others.

"Got your back," Spike growled, slipping back into game face and snapping the neck of a straggler. 

"Watch your own back," Buffy grunted, as she incapacitated two other vampires. "If they get you with those tasers...."

"All over it," he growled, jumping off the floor high enough to kick two tasers away before he came down between their former owners. With a roar of satisfaction, he began throwing punches, using his superior speed and agility to avoid most of the blows they tried to land on him.

Buffy had knocked out or otherwise crippled all the remaining vampires, and was systematically walking around plunging her stakes into their hearts. She discovered that if she did it quickly enough, and yanked them back immediately, she could keep the one in her hand from dusting with the vamp. As she worked, she kept one eye on the remaining commandos, noting that while they still surrounded Spike, they were not really willing to get close enough to taser him. 

When Buffy saw Spike throw one of the soldiers into the wall, she moved closer to him and warned, "Don't kill anybody."

"Figured that out for myself, Buffy," he said, sounding mildly disappointed, as he sent another man to the floor unconscious.

Buffy reached behind her and patted him on the leg. They were now standing back to back and waiting to see what the remaining soldiers were going to do. "I know you did. It was more for them than for you. See how scared they are now?"

"The wankers were already soiling their knickers," he growled, then held his hand up for quiet. A grin broke out over his face as he let it drop back into his human mien. "Think the cavalry has arrived, Slayer."

As he spoke, the door opened again and a uniformed man stepped into the room and surveyed the scene. Behind him were several armed men and Giles. The new arrival snapped out several rapid orders, which had the commandos, expressions of relief on their faces, lowering the tasers and moving away from the still-alert duo. As soon as they had left the big room, Buffy moved toward the door, Spike trailing after her.

"Giles!" she said in relief. 

He looked around the large arena, taking in the dust liberally sprinkled over the floor, and the moaning or unconscious men now being helped from the room.

"What happened here?"

Before Buffy could say anything, Spike put a hand on her arm. She turned to look at him, understanding dawning at the question in his eyes. She swallowed hard, staring back and forth between Spike and Giles.

"I'll tell you later," she said. "I need to... to use the ladies room. Where is it?" she asked one of the men waiting in the hall. They gestured toward the end of the hall and she sprinted out, dragging Spike behind her. When they were safely out of hearing range, she slowed down, but continued to hang on to his hand. The "ladies room" that she'd asked for turned out to be small unisex toilet set into a closet-sized room.

"Uh, Buffy... I don't think I... I mean I know we... but..."

"Oh, stop worrying. I'm not going to make you watch me pee. I just needed to get away from Giles so we could talk." She went into the room and stood, tapping her foot impatiently until, with an embarrassed shrug, he stepped in and shut the door. She stared at him. "What are we gonna do?"

He shrugged. "Don't suppose your watcher's likely to believe me if I said I wouldn't kill anybody?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I'm not sure I'd believe you," she admitted. When his face fell, she put her hand on his arm. "I know you won't hurt me," she said softly. "And I'd like to think you wouldn't hurt anyone I care about...but..."

"But that includes the whole world," he finished for her.

"It does." 

They stared at each other, their eyes filling with tears they would have denied if anyone had dared to point them out. 

"So, that's it, then? You'll tell your watcher, he'll order you to stake me, and we're done?"

"I don't want to stake you," she whispered, moving closer to him but holding her trembling hands at her sides.

"Wasn't planning to stand still for it, lo– Buffy." His expression hardened just enough to stop her from touching him. "Could go the other way, you know."

"It could," she agreed, her own face now settling into the hard lines of an angry slayer. "But I don't think it would."

"You're good, Slayer, but you're not invincible. Not by a long shot."

"Same to you, vampire." 

She met him glare for glare; the anguish and anger pouring through them making them both shudder. Giles' voice outside the room broke the standoff.

"Buffy? Are you in there? Where's Spike? He seems to have disappeared, and I've heard something very disturbing about him. You need to hear this."

Spike put a trembling hand against her cheek, shutting his eyes when she involuntarily leaned into it. "Open the door, love. Let's get this over with."

Taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, Buffy stepped around him and opened the door wide. 

"What is it you think I need to hear, Giles?" she said, standing aside so he could see who else was in the small room with her.   
He gaped at her, his eyes darting back and forth between Buffy and Spike. There was no mistaking the atmosphere between the two – if Buffy's flat voice and dull eyes hadn't given it away, the sheer agony on Spike's face would have.

"Apparently you are already aware that Spike has had his chip removed."

She nodded, afraid to trust her voice. She startled when Spike stepped up behind and rested his hands on her shoulders.

"We were just discussin' the situation, Watcher."

Giles turned his eyes on Buffy. "Surely you realize there is nothing to discuss? He's no longer harmless. I saw what he did to those men back there. You must do what you need to do."

"They're all alive, aren't they?" Buffy's lip came out stubbornly, and she felt Spike give her shoulders a light squeeze.

Giles lips tightened. "Are you seriously suggesting that William the Bloody isn't going to go back to killing?" He shook his head. "Once again, you are allowing your... feelings... for a dangerous vampire to interfere with your duty."

The reminder of what Giles had lost when Angelus was loosed made Buffy bite her lip, and her eyes fill. She felt Spike's barely audible growl vibrating through the chest now pressed against her back.

"I'm not bloody Angelus!" he snarled, the impact of his impassioned protest somewhat marred by the way his eyes flashed amber and his fangs protruded just past his lips. He was quickly back to his human face, but Giles had seen what he needed to see.

"No," he said quietly. "You are not Angelus, and therefore, there is no soul to be put back into your body. That chip was the only thing standing between you and a killing spree."

"If," Spike said, his voice dangerously calm and low, "I were going to do something like that, I know exactly which wanker I'd begin with...." The look he sent Giles made it quite clear what he meant. Before Buffy could follow up her stiffening body with anything more lethal, he quickly continued. "But I've got something better than the chip, better than a soul – which, last time I checked, everyone of the sadistic bastards working here still has." He kept his hands on Buffy's shoulders, his thumbs rubbing small circles on her back where Giles couldn't see them. When she relaxed slightly, he said. "I have something no other vamp has... a reason for not killing."

Buffy gave a small gasp as she realized what he meant, and what he seemed to be promising. She turned her head, tipping it back to look up at him wordlessly. He gave her a brief smile, then turned his attention back to Giles.

"Got my soul, conscience, whatever you want to call it, right here," he said. "Not going to kill her, and I don't plan on givin' her any reason to kill me."

"Buffy," Giles pleaded with his slayer, even as his intuition told him that the unique vampire in front of him was telling the truth. "Surely, you don't believe him!"

"I'll believe him until he gives me some reason not to," she said, bringing up her hands to cover and squeeze Spike's. "Spike has never lied to me."

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Spike has never lied to me."

"Well, technically, pet..." Buffy's elbow to his mid-section cut off whatever he'd been about to say, and he waited quietly, rubbing his diaphragm.

"You cannot seriously be thinking about..."

"I'm not thinking anything, Giles. I'm just telling you that I'm not going to slay Spike unless he gives me a reason to. Anything else is between him and me. It's not your business and it's not the Council's."

"Considering that it was the Council's intervention that was responsible for our timely arrival, I feel fairly certain that they will consider it more than their business if they find you have taken up with another vampire." He looked at Spike's hand, noting that it still rested lightly on Buffy's shoulder, then raised his eyes to the vampire's. "Do you recall our conversation about how unlikely it is that you will ever be out of his shadow?"

Spike's faced darkened and there was the trace of a growl in his voice when he replied. "Not feeling all that shadowed right now," he said. "And I don't give a bloody rip about anyone else's opinion but hers."

"You are putting her in grave danger," Giles insisted.

"'Her' is standing right here!" Buffy said, waving her hand between them. "What the hell are you two talking about?"

"Tell you later," Spike said. His gaze challenged Giles' disapproving eyes. "When we're alone."

Buffy saw her watcher's jaw tighten at Spike's obvious assumption that he and Buffy would be spending more time together, and she sighed. "Stop it," she hissed. "Don't make things worse than they already are."

The three-way standoff might have continued for some time, had the uniformed man who had arrived with Giles not chosen to approach them.

"Mr. Giles, is this the young lady we were here to rescue? I'm a little confused, and wondering if drugs might somehow be involved. According to our prisoners, she killed several attackers; and yet, they also are insisting that the military personnel who have been incapacitated were fighting only with the young man behind her. Who, they are insisting is a... vampire?"

Giles heaved a sigh and moved toward the other man. "Let's you and I find a place to chat about this, shall we? Perhaps we can get one of your prisoners to give us a tour of the facility and explain what was going on here."

As soon as he had ushered the man down the hall, Spike said, "That was our exit cue, pet. Time to go."

Buffy nodded and looked up and down the hall. "But which way? I wasn't exactly taking notes when they brought me in here."

He sniffed the air a few times, then gestured. "Fresh air coming from this direction, and that's where our 'rescuers' came from. Let's get out of here before they find out I'm one of the demons they're about to meet."

With a nod, she followed him to the doors of the facility, only to discover that it was now broad daylight... and sunny.

"Bloody California weather," Spike muttered, shrinking back against the inside wall. 

"Your fault for being flammable," Buffy said, looking around for the nearest manhole cover or shade. "Look – over there. Can you put your coat over your head and make it to that manhole?"

Spike peered cautiously around the door and nodded. "I think so. If you run over there and hold it open so that all I have to do is dive in..."

"Okay." Buffy darted to the manhole and yanked on the cover, falling backwards as it came up much more easily than she had expected. "Ow!" 

Spike shot across the intervening space, diving head first into the opening. As he went past her, Buffy heard him ask, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and leaned over the dark hole. "Spike? Where are you? Are you okay?"

A string of curses met her question and she leaned back in relief. "Is that a 'yes'?"

The voice got louder as Spike climbed the ladder and stopped just short of the sunny opening. Buffy gazed down at him, smothering a snicker when she saw that he was dripping in foul-smelling water. 

"Laugh, and I swear I'll bite you," he snarled, reaching up with one hand, then snatching it back when it began to smoke.

"You can't reach me. So, nani, nani, boo boo." Buffy giggled and stuck out her tongue as she stood up. "I'm going back to the dorm to get cleaned up and take a nap," she said. "You can come over later – when you've had a shower and changed your clothes."

"Oh, I see how it is. Man gets a little messy and suddenly he's not good enough for the Slayer to walk home with him."

"You stink, Spike. A lot. And if I walk home with you down there, I'll stink too. Go home. Get clean." She paused then leaned over again until she could see his face. "And don't eat anybody, okay?"

"Only you, pet. Only you." 

Buffy rolled her eyes at his leering face and snapped, "Pig!"

"Oink, oink," he replied, dropping with a splash back into the water below. "See you after while, love."

Buffy slid the manhole cover back into place and began walking toward the dorm.

"Stupid piggy vampire," she muttered, even as certain body parts warmed up as a result of what he'd said.

 

Buffy had just woken up from a much-needed nap when she saw Willow standing in the doorway and whispering to someone. She sat up and called out, "Wiilow? Who's out there?"

Willow turned around, her expression apologetic. "I'm sorry. I was trying to be quiet so we didn't wake you."

Buffy padded over to the door and peeked around Willow's shoulder. 

"Oh. Hi," she said to the blushing girl standing there. "I'm Buffy. Willow's roommate."

"T....Tara," the other girl responded.

"Tara's in my Wicca group," Willow said, smiling at her new friend. "We were going to um... work on spells... here, but since you're here, I guess we can go to her apartment."

Buffy frowned. "Why? I'm awake now, and I'll probably be going out later. There's no reason why you can't do it here. I'll be very quiet – I promise."

The two Wiccas exchanged looks and the blonde girl ducked her head and blushed again. Willow shook her head, saying, "No, it's okay. Anyway, you might want... " She stopped, not sure what to say about Spike. Although Buffy had yet to fill her in on where she'd been and what had happened, Spike had been in Buffy's company so often lately that it seemed natural to assume he would show up when the sun was down. Particularly after she'd heard an abridged version of the day's activities from Giles.

"Yeah." Buffy nodded. "Tara might not be ready to meet... Okay. I'll see you tomorrow, then. I have a lot to tell you."

"I'm sure you do," Willow said with a sly smile. "I've already heard the Giles version."

"Oh." Buffy blushed, unable to think of a quick response. With a wave, Willow went out, leaving the door open. Her voice drifted back, "Tell Spike I said 'Hi'."

"Smartass," Buffy muttered, unable to keep a smile off her face. Grabbing her robe and towels, she went down the hall to shower off the accumulated grime from the past two days.

When she came back, key out to open the door, she was surprised to find it unlocked. She entered cautiously, relaxing when she spotted Spike's coat draped over a chair. He was lolling on her bed, seemingly immersed in one of her textbooks. 

"Are you comfy?" she said, trying for sarcasm but coming perilously close to sounding genuinely interested.

He looked up, acting surprised. Buffy rolled her eyes, knowing full well his vampire hearing and other senses had been aware of her before she even opened the door. He laughed and closed the book, keeping his finger in it to save the place.

"I'd be more comfy if you brought your naked little body over her where I can reach it," he said, leering at her as though he could see right through the bathrobe she was holding closed.

"Pig!" She said, throwing her wet towel at his head.

"Is that such a bad thing?" He pointed to Mr. Gordo, who had accompanied Buffy from her mother's house to the college dorm. "Seems to me you have a thing for pigs."

"Mr Gordo is not just a pig! He's... he's... He's Mr. Gordo, and I love him." Buffy clutched the stuffed animal to her chest and tried not to feel like she was being childish. 

"Are you five?" Spike, it seemed, was not going to permit her to get away with it. He stood up and moved closer to her.

"He's a different kind of pig," she muttered, placing him casually, but carefully on her desk. "You're one kind, and he's... a different kind."

Spike took her hand and pulled her towards him. "I'm the real, live, breathing... kind," he whispered into her ear. "A lot more fun than any stuffed animal."

"You're none of those things," she gasped, arching her neck to give him better access to it. As he nibbled on the skin of her throat and began to suck on one of the marks he'd left the night before, she said, "Okay. Maybe more fun... and kind of real..."

Spike sat back down, pulling her into his lap and opening the book he was still holding.

"Look," he said, flipping to the page he'd been holding. "Here's what your school book says about the year of the Pig." He began to read aloud, " _The Year of the Pig - In Chinese culture, the pig is associated with fertility and virility. To bear children in the Year of the Pig is considered to be very fortunate, for they will be happy and honest—"_

"Fertility!" 

" _Virility,_ Slayer. Pay attention."

"I _am_ paying attention. It said 'fertility' _and_ 'virility'. And it's talking about bearing children!"

"Calm down and let me finish," he growled. "You know I can't make you pregnant – just ignore that part."

"So you're not virile?" She giggled when he snarled.

He glared at her. "Do I need to remind you about my missing chip?"

In reply, she leaned up and kissed him on the nose. "I wouldn't, if I were you. Now, what else does it say?"

Somewhat mollified by her teasing tone, he continued:

_Positive and Negative Capability_

_Positive: The Boar can be sensible, sensual and sensitive, sweetly naive, caring, self-sacrificing, erudite, talented, open-handed, candid, outgoing, amusing, charitable, obliging, graciously hospitable and virtuous._

 

"There! How's that for pig qualities?" He raised his eyebrows triumphantly, only to have Buffy snatch the book from his hand and begin to read herself.

 

_Negatives: The Boar can also be hot-tempered, pessimistic, outrageously epicurean, earthy to a fault, sardonic, snobbish, snide, authoritarian, competitive, know-it-all, stingy, victimized and sometimes downright criminally mad at the world._

 

She grinned at him. "Yep. Sounds like you, all right."

He took the book from her and dropped it on the floor, then slid his hands into her open bathrobe, pushing it off her shoulders. She squealed and tried to pull it around her body, but he was holding her too tightly.

"We can't... Willow...."

"The witch and her girlfriend are off for the night. I met up with them in the lobby. You won't be seeing them back here any time soon."

"Her... you mean Tara? Her new Wicca friend? And how to do you know what they... girlfriend?"

"I'll explain later, love. Right now I want to show you what it means to be virile."

"How about sensitive and caring and sensual and—"

"Can be whatever you need me to be, Buffy," he said, ceasing his constant nibbling at her neck long enough to meet her eyes. "You tell me what you want from me."

Buffy stared into his eyes, reading all the things she'd been trying not to see, but finding them not nearly as frightening as she'd expected.

"I want the Council not to kill you," she blurted, surprising herself as well as Spike with the desperation in her voice. "And if you stay here, I'm afraid they're going to try."

"Can't leave you, Buffy," he said, falling backwards and pulling her tightly against his body. "Don't make me leave, love. Don't make me leave," he finished in a whisper.

"I don't think they'll let me keep you," she whispered back, not caring that her robe had slid completely off her body and she was naked against him. "I don't know what to do."

"Let me love you. Let me stay here and love you. You know I'll watch your back. We could make you the longest lived slayer in history."

Buffy gave a laugh that was half sob. "I'm not sure the Council would consider that a plus. They already tried to kill me once. The only reason they put up with me is because Faith is crazy and in a coma."

"All the more reason for me to stay here and help you. Even a Council of Wankers wet team would have a rough go against the both of us."

"How do you know about—"

"Been studying slayers a long time, love. Know your enemy and all that."

"Am I your enemy?" Buffy murmured, squirming around on his body until he groaned. Instead of answering her, he toed off his boots and rolled them over until he was on top. He brushed his lips across hers, smiling when her mouth opened in welcome. He grabbed her lower lip in his teeth and growled softly.

"You know you aren't," he said. "Never will be again. Don't care what happens –what you do. I will never be able to think of you as my enemy..." His words trailed off as Buffy fastened her mouth on his and they fell into the kisses that made the world and all its worries fall away. It wasn't long before he was pressing her into the mattress and she was wrapping her legs around him and grinding against him.

"You have too many clothes on," she gasped, holding him so tightly that he couldn't have taken anything off if he'd been trying.

"If you let go of me for a second, I'll take care of that." 

She reluctantly relaxed her hold and let her legs fall apart. Immediately, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and rolled to the side to unzip his pants. With Buffy's eager assistance, he shoved his jeans down his legs and kicked them off to join his boots on the floor. Before covering her again, he propped himself up on his arms and stared admiringly. It was the first time he'd actually seen her nude body – the complete darkness having been the key the last time they'd made love – and he paused to savor the sight. 

Buffy turned her head to the side where she couldn't see his admiring eyes, but she forced herself to keep her hands at her sides, resisting the urge to cover her body. 

"Would it make you feel better if you looked, love?" Spike seemed to instinctively understand why she'd turned away. He touched her chin with one finger, gently urging her to turn back to him. "There's nothing here to be ashamed of, Buffy. You're a vision. The most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He cupped her cheek with his hand, feeling the heat from her blush against his palm. 

"You're making me blush," she said softly. "The things you say... Nobody has ever...."

"No one has ever told you how bloody perfect you are? Wankers!" His snort encompassed her previous lovers as well as any man she'd ever met who hadn't fallen at her feet. She smiled at him with more warmth than she'd shown yet. Then, with a smirk, she deliberately ran her eyes down his torso, from his amused face, past his chiseled chest and amazing abs to the slender hips now hovering over her still-open thighs and to the object jutting out from the brown curls at the bottom of his abdomen. She blinked and raised surprised eyes to his. 

"It's big," she said, rolling her eyes when he laughed with delight.

"Is," he said, lowering his body to touch hers. "But it all fits, doesn't it?" He nudged at her entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against her. "Do you remember, love? How well it fits?"

"I do," she said, bringing her legs up around his hips and pulling him towards her. Her arms encircled his back and he allowed himself to be pulled into her embrace. "Now, weren't you going to teach me something about your virility...."

 

**Chapter Eighteen - Slime is Not an Option**

Hours later, Buffy lay in the curve of his arm, her hand tracing patterns on his chest. The lamp on the desk cast a yellow glow over the room, the light not quite reaching all the dark corners but illuminating the room too brightly to invite sleep.

"It's not dark in here," she murmured. "I like it dark when I sleep..."

His chest shook gently, then he rolled to face her. "Is that your way of sayin' you want the one who can see in the dark to get up and turn off the light?"

"Kinda?"

"You only had to ask, love. You know I'd do anything for you." Buffy blinked as he stood up and walked to the desk. His backlit body with the muscled back and legs and tight ass temporarily distracted her from his words. However, when he'd killed the light and returned to the bed, she remembered why she'd been so surprised. Where those words, from most men, might have been whispered as a flowery declaration, Spike had simply stated what he saw as a fact. 

As he settled next to her, pulling her close until she was comfortably snuggled into his side, she said, without trying to hide her amazement, "You would, wouldn't you?"

"That's how I am when I love... " Although his words and tone were casual, she could feel the tension in his body. Despite some mumbled phrases during the height of passion, he had never ever actually said he loved her. 

_He can't love me, can he? He's got no soul... and we just stopped being enemies last week..._ She remembered what he'd said about how he'd always grown hard when they were fighting, and blushed to remember how often she'd thought about how it felt to be pressed up against him, even when she was holding a stake to his chest. 

As she made no response, she felt him stiffen a little more and his arms loosened just a bit. She unconsciously tightened the arm she'd been resting across his body, holding him in place. She lifted one leg and wrapped it around his thigh, pinning him to the bed.

"Spike... I... " She stopped, not sure what she wanted to say, but very conscious that the wrong words could shatter whatever was growing between them.

As though he could read her mind, he relaxed and began to stroke the arm holding him so tightly. "Wasn't asking for anything, Buffy. I know it's too soon for... know I've got to prove myself, got to earn..." He brushed light kisses across her face. "Not expecting anything from you, other than you allow me to be in your life."

"You _are_ in my life. How could you doubt it?" She waved her arm to encompass their entwined naked bodies. "Do you think I just... with anybody?" Buffy pushed away thoughts of Parker and their one-night stand. _It's not like the one-night thing was my idea._ Then she remembered Spike's words to her when he'd had the Gem of Amara and she stiffened. "Do you?"

"No, love. No. Didn't mean that at all. I know I was a wanker when that git brushed you off. But, it was because I was so jealous I couldn't see straight. Arse was too stupid to know what a gift he'd been given. He'd had what I wanted and there he was – treating you like... Trust me, Buffy, if you hadn't taken that ring off my finger, he would have been my first meal."

Somewhat mollified, she sniffed and put her head back down on his chest. "Okay, then." Her head snapped back up. "Not okay that you eat him!"

He laughed. "Yeah, yeah. I know." He nuzzled her hair and purred, "Is it okay if I scare the piss out of him sometime? Put the fear of Spike into him?"

Buffy shrugged. "Sure. Have fun. I already hit him on the head a couple times, though. Maybe we should move on..."

"That's my girl." He tightened his arms around her and squeezed.

"Your girl is sleepy," she replied, stifling a yawn. 

"Then she should sleep." He pulled the covers up over their bodies and settled down for a night of marveling at where he was and who was sharing the bed with him.

 

When Buffy woke up, Spike was clearly deep into his normal daytime sleep. She extricated herself from his arms and stood up, smiling at the way they seemed to automatically tighten when she first moved. She grabbed her robe and clothes and ran down the hall to shower. When she returned, Spike was sitting up, holding the sheet to his chest and glaring at Willow who was standing in the middle of the room hyperventilating.

Buffy walked up to her and touched her shoulder, bringing an "eep!" and a jump.

"Sorry, Will. I didn't mean to scare you."

"You... he..." Willow took a calming breath, still staring at Buffy's bed. "Spike is in your bed. Spike is naked in your bed."

"How do you know I'm naked, Red? Did you peek? Shame on you!"

Willow turned her eyes to Buffy. "I didn't peek, I swear! I just... "

Giving Spike a glare that did nothing to stop his laughter, Buffy patted Willow on the shoulder. "Don't pay any attention to him. He's just trying to embarrass you."

"Well, it's working," Willow grumbled. "Consider me embarrassed."

"Guess getting up to put my pants on wouldn't be a good idea then," Spike said, still grinning. He fell back onto the pillow and crossed his arms behind his head.

"Not unless you want to be wearing warts for the next couple of days," Willow threatened, her initial shock at finding a naked vampire in her roommate's bed wearing off. Buffy whispered in her ear, so low that even Spike couldn't make it out. Willow nodded. "Well, okay. But just because you asked. Not because I don't think he deserves it." She turned and pointed at Spike. "I'm going to go take a shower. You'd better have pants on when I get back, mister!"

They watched Willow leave, then Buffy approached the bed, her head down. He took her hand and pulled her closer. "What's this, then?" he asked. "Having second thoughts?"

"Not really. I'm just realizing how not well some people are going to take this." She sighed. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

He frowned. "Your watcher knows – not that he's happy 'bout it – your best friend knows. Who else, besides your mum," he paused and shuddered theatrically, "matters? Were you maybe planning to call the big poof and share?"

Buffy's wide eyes and open mouth told him she'd never even thought about Angel's possible reaction. She moaned. "Oh my God. I forgot about Angel. He's going to totally wig." She stared at Spike. "He's going to kill you!"

"He's going to _want_ to kill me," Spike agreed. "Might not be all that easy..."

"How can you be so casual about this?" Buffy's voice was climbing higher. "How could I forget about Angel? What's wrong with me?"

Spike cocked his head at her. "Maybe I'm just that much better than he is?" he said, trying for a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. When she didn't respond, he tried again. "Or maybe," he tugged her closer again, "maybe you've moved on."

"Well duh!" she said, throwing up her hands and turning away, completely missing the surprise and awe on his face. "That's not the point. It's who I've moved on to that's going to be the problem." She turned back around and peered at Spike through the hair that had fallen in front of her face. "He hates you, you know."

"Feelin's mutual, pet. Trust me." Spike threw the sheet back and reached for his pants. "Old grandpa isn't one of my favorite relatives, either."

"Okay. So we just have to make sure nobody tells him. If he doesn't know, he can't get all fangy about it."

Willow came through the door just as Spike finished zipping his jeans closed.

"Who can't get all... oh! Angel. Oh yeah, fangy, stakey, flamey—" 

"Not if he doesn't know," Buffy said quickly. "If we don't tell him..."

Willow nodded vigorously. "That's right. Giles doesn't like to talk to him, I don't talk to him, you don't... You don't, do you?" Buffy shook her head. "Okay, then we're all good. None of us are going to tell him. Xander hates him, so he's not going to tell... "

Buffy cleared her throat. "I was kinda, sorta thinking that we'd put off telling Xander for a while. You know, give him some time to get used to seeing Spike with me instead of making some big announcement that—"

"That would make him wig," Willow finished for her. "You're right. He's going to be as bad as Angel – just not as scary." She looked at Spike apologetically. "He's probably going to want to stake you, though. You'll have to be careful."

"Not quite the pushover I was a few days ago," Spike said as he pulled on his tee-shirt. 

"And on that cheery note..." Willow watched as he got back into Buffy's bed and pulled the sheets over his head. She raised her eyebrows at Buffy, who shrugged.

"It's not like he can go out now," she said, making an apologetic face. She picked up her notebooks and waited while Willow put on shoes and got her own supplies for class. With a last look at the immobile lump in Buffy's bed, they left the room.

 

"I am never going to get this off my coat!" Spike looked down at the body of the chaos demon he'd just killed and snarled. "I wish I could kill the wanker all over again." He glanced up at Buffy who was standing conspicuously far away. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Staying away from you. You're all... slimy. And you smell... And did I mention slimy?"

"Got this way protecting you. Or have you forgotten that already?"

"You weren't protecting _me,_ " she sniffed. "I could have handled him just fine. I just didn't want to get slime all over my new blouse and shoes."

"Point is, _pet_..." His voice sounded suspiciously like a snarl. "I ruined my clothes trying to save yours. And now you're actin' like you don't want to be seen with me."

Just then a young couple walked past them, wrinkling their noses and gagging. The girl gave Buffy a sympathetic look as they stepped into the street to avoid getting close to Spike, who was standing in the middle of the sidewalk with slime dripping down his face and off his coat. 

Without speaking, Buffy turned and began walking towards Giles' apartment complex. She ignored the snarling vampire trailing her through Sunnydale, giving sunny smiles to anyone who seemed inclined to mention the slimy, smelly, angry-looking man behind her. 

She entered the apartment and quickly turned to block the door. "Backyard, hose, now," she said firmly, pointing to the end of the apartment block. Still snarling and swearing in several languages, Spike obediently went around to the back of the building, kicking several lawn chairs out of his way as he did so. Buffy watched out the upstairs window as he hung his coat over one of the abused chairs and sprayed it down with the hose. He then put his head under the hose and washed the slime out of his hair and off his face, removing the gel in his hair at the same time. She smiled as the familiar curls began to sprout on his head, then ran downstairs to let him in.

It was only then that she noticed Heloise standing in the kitchen and raised her eyebrows at Giles. He cleared his throat and said too quietly for the curious woman to hear, "It seems only fair that I, too, be permitted to trust someone you don't."

Before Buffy could answer, Spike slipped up behind her and smirked at Giles. "At least you know this vampire isn't going to lose his leash and kill your ladyfriend."

Giles' jaw tightened at the mention of Jenny, then he exhaled and nodded. "Point taken."

Heloise had approached the group, staring back and forth between Spike's wet head and the wet leather coat he'd left hanging by the door.

"Is it raining again?"

"No," Buffy responded cheerfully. "Spike just had a little run-in with a Chaos demon and he got slimed."

Heloise ran for her notebook. "Chaos demon? I don't have that one. What can you tell me about them?"

"They're gross and disgusting and I didn't want one sliming on my good clothes," Buffy said, shuddering. Before anyone could explain more, Xander and Anya entered and were introduced to Heloise. Giles referred to her as his "friend from the university" to snickers from Spike, who Buffy then elbowed him in the ribs.

Heloise's "tsk" went almost unnoticed as Willow and Tara came in, sparking another round of introductions. As soon as everyone had sorted out who was meeting whom for the first time, and what the various relationships were, Heloise focused back on the Chaos demon question and Buffy's response.

"So, the Slayer is a bit myxophobic, and she allowed her boyfriend to take the brunt of an attack so as to avoid damage to her clothes?" She fixed Buffy with a disapproving frown. "I know that you and... Spike... are not what I first took you for, but even so, the way you treat him is shameful. All that physical abuse... I don't know why he stands for it."

Before Buffy could respond with anything testy, Spike rested his hands on her shoulders and spoke over her head.

"I'm a vampire, luv. Much as I appreciate your concern for my well-being, the Slayer and I have been physically abusing each other on pretty equal terms for a long time. We can take it. And, for me, that's part of her charm. Trust me when I tell you the rewards are worth every bloody punch."

Heloise looked at Giles for support, but he just shook his head. "I really don't want to know, and neither do you." He took her arm and steered her away from Spike and Buffy, who were having an animated, whispered conversation. Spike hadn't removed his hands from Buffy's shoulders yet, and she was carrying on her part of the conversation looking back at him over her shoulder. Neither of them had noticed the way Xander was staring in disbelief.

He was uncharacteristically silent for the rest of the evening, spending much of the time watching Buffy and Spike as they and Giles brought everyone up to speed on the Initiative and what was likely to happen to it.

"Do you think they're going to release all the demons and vamps?" Willow asked, patting Tara's hand absently when she gasped at the thought. 

Xander's eyes were now darting back and forth between both Willow and Tara, and Spike and Buffy, all of whom seemed to him to be sitting unnecessarily close together and doing more touching than was normal. Finally he blurted out, "Willow? Have you done another spell?"

She blushed and moved even closer to the girl she'd introduced as her new Wicca friend. "Do you mean... them?" She gestured to Spike and Buffy, now arguing about what to do if the Army decided to just empty the cells and turn everything in them loose in Sunnydale.

"Well, yeah. We can start with them. What the hell is going on? And why did the Prof call Spike Buffy's boyfriend?"

Buffy spoke up, shrugging uncomfortably. "When she first met us, she just assumed he was... with me. We were too busy just then to tell her any different."

"That was then. This is now. Tell her different!"

"Well...."

"Well? There is no well. There will be no welling here. Just tell her!"

"Xander, I really wanted to give you some time to get used to this, but...."

Xander appealed to Giles. "G-man, do you hear this? You're not going to allow it, right?"

Giles cleared his throat. "I believe Buffy is old enough to do without my permission when it comes to whom she is... seeing."

"Have you forgotten what her last vampire boyfriend did to you? Because I haven't."

"Xander, Spike isn't like Angelus. He's not...."

"Not soulless? 'cause I'm pretty sure he is. Last time I checked he was trying to kill us all."

"I know it seems kinda sudden, but we—"

Buffy was becoming visibly upset the longer Xander talked, and Spike finally stepped in. "What Buffy does and who she does it with is her business. She doesn't need your permission or anyone else's. Get over it."

Xander looked around at Giles, Willow, Tara and Heloise, seeing that none of them looked shocked or surprised.

"So, I'm the last to know, then?"

"You are," Spike said. "And with good reason, you judgmental git. No wonder she was afraid to tell you."

"No," Xander said, with surprising calm. "No, I'll bet I'm not the last to know. C'mon, Anya. I've got a call to make."

 

**Chapter Nineteen  
Vigilance**

"That bloody stupid git!" Spike's snarl caused Willow and Tara to flinch. Giles, however, surprised them all by adding, "The boy never has been overly bright, but this is..."

Buffy looked at them both, her dismayed expression bringing another snarl from Spike and a sympathetic moan from Willow. "Do you really think he's going to call Angel? He hates Angel."

"He hates Spike, too," Willow volunteered with an apologetic smile in his direction. "He blames you for... for making him lose Cordelia."

"Come again? I never even saw the cheerleader that trip. Not that I don't think she wouldn't have left his sorry arse anyway, but—”

"But you were responsible for leaving me and Xander in that warehouse – and making us think we were going to die."

Spike looked at Buffy for clarification.

She sighed and rattled off, "Oz and Cordelia found the warehouse and went running in to the rescue. Willow and Xander were smooching and Cordy fell onto a rebar when she tried to leave. Cheating boyfriend and hole in tummy all in one night equals very unhappy Cordy. She wouldn't even talk to him for weeks."

"Well, I didn't tell the idiot to start snogging you while I was gone!" Spike said indignantly. "He can't blame me because he's stupid!"

"Can and does," Buffy said. "And now that you..." She stopped, unsure what to say about the crush Xander used to have on her.

"And now you're with the other girl he wanted in his life," Willow filled in. "It's like you took them both away."

Spike's eyes flashed amber as he growled, "That wanker wants you too?"

"It was a long time ago," Buffy soothed. "I'm sure he's over it. He has Anya now."

"If we could focus on the actual issue here..." Giles' voice brought their attention back to him. "An angry Angel, or Angelus, is not something to be welcomed."

"I can't imagine this news is going to make him so happy he loses his soul," Buffy said with a sigh. "But even Angel is probably going to be pretty dangerous – to Spike, anyway."

"Been a long time since I was the big poof's punching bag, Slayer," Spike growled. "He might find he's bitten off a bit more than he can chew if he comes after me."

"Yeah, thanks for that image." Buffy wrinkled her nose, then added, "And I don't really want to have to referee that fight if it's all the same to you." She approached Spike and touched his cheek gently. "And I don't really want to hurt Angel like that if we can avoid it."

While Buffy worked to soothe Spike's ruffled feathers, Willow stood up.

"I'll go find them and talk him out of it. I'm sure he'll understand what a bad idea it is once he calms down." She took Tara's hand and pulled her to her feet. "We'll be back soon – or I'll call. Don't worry, Buffy. I'm sure he won't do it."

Spike and Buffy watched the witches leave, then looked at each other and shrugged. Buffy turned to Giles, asking, "Do you think I should call Angel and just tell him to hang up on Xander if he calls?"

"You know him better than I," he responded stiffly. "Perhaps he won't be as concerned as you think."

Buffy and Spike exchanged looks again and shook their heads. "I don't think 'concerned' is quite the word you're looking for there, Watcher," Spike said with a small grin. "Try bloody raving."

 

Angel had just come on the line when Willow burst into Xander's basement apartment. Xander had gotten no further than, "Buffy is—" when Willow grabbed the phone from him. 

"Nevermind, Angel. It's nothing. Nice talking to you, bye now!"

"Willow? Was that Xander? What did he mean 'Buffy is—'. What's wrong? Is she all right?"

"She's fine. Couldn't be finer. It's all good here. Bye!"

Willow clicked off the phone and dropped it onto the chair.

"What were you thinking?"

Xander fell into the chair, not even noticing that he'd sat on the phone. 

"Oh God. I can't believe I did that. Buffy's going to kill me..."

"If she doesn't, Spike probably will," Willow agreed, sitting on the bed. "How could you do that?"

Tara and Anya stood together uncomfortably, watching the two old friends. 

"I'm an idiot?" Xander ventured.

"Not arguing with you," Willow said, her frown turning into a sympathetic smile. "But hey, you never actually said anything about Spike, so maybe Angel will just think you were drunk or something."

"I tried to tell him not to do it," Anya volunteered. Tara patted her arm and smiled in encouragement as she frowned. "But I didn't think about taking the phone away."

"Speaking of which..." Willow pointed to Xander's legs. "You wanna get up off the phone so I can call Giles' and tell Buffy it's okay?"

With an embarrassed shrug, he stood up and handed her the phone. "Here you go. Still warm from the Xan-man's butt."

Willow wrinkled her nose and held the phone out gingerly. "Oh the other hand, why don't you make that call?"

 

The phone in Giles apartment rang insistently - Buffy, Spike and Giles all stared at it.

"It's probably Willow, calling to tell us she caught Xander in time."

"Of course that's who it is. Who else could it be?" Buffy's false assurance went no further than her words.

They all watched as the answering machine came on and an all-too-familiar voice said, "Giles? Are you there? Pick up, if you are."

"And once again the great poof sticks his nose in where it isn't needed." Spike's disgusted remark was matched by the expression on his face. Only when Buffy had turned toward the answering machine, distress clear in every line of her body, did he allow his insecurity to show. "Buffy?"

Her glance flickered from the phone to Spike and back. "Maybe... maybe you should answer him, Giles?" she said. "I mean, just in case it's unrelated and—"

"Bugger that! You know bloody well it's 'related', Slayer. The only question is, what did that flaming idiot tell him?"

"Well we won't know unless we let Giles talk to him, will we?" she snapped back. Before the exchange could escalate, the phone rang again and Giles picked up the receiver to find Joyce on the line.

"Hello, Joyce," he said calmly, waving a soothing hand in Buffy's direction. "What can I do for— Oh, I see. He did? No, no. I can assure you Buffy is fine. I have no idea what Xander might have said that— Ah, good then... I mean, how odd." His lips pinched together as he listened to what Joyce was saying. "That's... useful to know. Thank you so much for telling me – us." He paused again, then gestured for Buffy to approach. "She's right here. Why don't I allow her to tell you herself?"

He thrust the phone into Buffy's hand, saying, "Please assure your mother that you are fine."

Leaving Buffy to tell Joyce a modified version of the day's events, he moved over to stand near Spike.

"What was that all about?" Spike growled. He'd only been able to pick up bits and pieces of the conversation, in spite of being in the same room.

"It seems that Xander only managed to say Buffy's name before Willow interrupted him and hung up. So Angel called Joyce to ask if Buffy was home and if she was all right. Apparently, the soldiers had paid her a visit previous to showing up at your crypt, so she was already a bit apprehensive when Angel called to ask about Buffy and to say that Xander had called him."

"Oh, well, can't blame the woman for being rattled. Must be a nightmare, knowing your only child is out every night fighting all sorts of nasties. That's bad enough, knowing soldiers from her own country might be after her too was probably enough for Joyce to break out that fire axe she tried to brain me with."

A shadow went across the former watcher's face. "Yes. I imagine it is very difficult, knowing one's... child... is in constant danger."

Spike peered at him intently, then gave a warm, genuine smile. "Knew you weren't made of the usual watcher stuff, Rupert," he said. "Got something besides ice water in those veins, yeah?"  
"Hence my reluctance to see my... charge... become involved with a soulless killer," Giles responded. The small, grudging smile he allowed to cross his face took the sting from his words. He nodded as Spike murmured, "Not him, Watcher," and turned as Buffy crossed the room.

"Is your mum all sorted?"

"Yeah. Mom is fine, but she thinks Angel is planning to come up here to check on me." She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. "Maybe you should—"

"Maybe I should what?" Spike's face was expressionless, but his voice managed to convey menace and great sadness at the same time. 

"Lose the wrinklies," Buffy said, tapping his forehead, completely unconcerned that he'd changed. In spite of Giles' choked gasp, she went up on her toes and brushed her lips across Spike's mouth, managing to avoid cutting herself on the fangs just visible behind his lips.

"Sorry, love. Didn't know I'd gone into game face on you."

"Are you planning to do that every time Angel's name comes up? Cause, you know, it's gonna get old fast."

"Wasn't the poof's name that did it," he muttered, too annoyed at himself for losing control to realize that she was gently teasing him.

"I know," she said with a sigh. "But you thought I was going to tell you to hide or something. Didn't you?" she demanded went he put on his most innocent expression.

"That may not be a bad idea," Giles said. "I am forced to admit that the best way to deal with Angel – if he actually shows up – may be to let him see that Buffy is fine and that he isn't needed here. Then he will leave and...."

"And the Slayer and I can live happily ever after?" Spike said with a sardonic smile.

Giles shrugged. "I quite doubt that happily ever after is a likely future for a slayer and a vampire," he said, more to Buffy than Spike. "However, preventing Angel from finding out that he has been replaced in your affections by... Spike, of all... people, may be in everyone's best interests."

Spike looked like he'd just swallowed some very bitter blood. "Much as I hate the thought...." He gave Buffy a tight smile Buffy and sighed. "Watcher's probably right. If he doesn't see me around, and the boy keeps his mouth shut, Angelus'll have no reason to get his knickers in a twist. You can feed him some half-truths about the soldier boys and he can go back to saving the denizens of Hollywood thinking all is well in Sunnyhell."

"As long as he doesn't go to Willy's, doesn't talk to Xander, and doesn't catch us together. Yeah, no problem." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I believe vigilance will be the order of the day for a while," Giles said. "Until we know that he has been and gone, you will have to be very careful."

"What about Xander?"

"I'll speak with him." Something in Giles's voice brought Buffy's head around. She had a quick glimpse of the man who had attacked Angelus with a torch and a stake, and then Giles was his normal self.

"Whoa, Giles. Scary there for a second."

"Told you the Watcher had depths, love," Spike said with a grin.

 

 **Chapter Twenty**

Buffy stared back and forth between Spike and Giles, then shrugged. "Okay then. How are we going to do this? You just stay away for a while – hide in your crypt or something? And I'll just go about my business, going to classes and slaying? How long do you think we're going to have to keep this up?"

Spike shrugged. "Doesn't take long to get here from LA, does it? Couple of hours at most? I reckon we're going to be hearing something from old Angelus by midnight."

Buffy stood up. "Well, that gives us time for a quick patrol before I go back to the dorm. He'll probably go there to look for me first."

"Does he know where you live?" Buffy was sure she saw Spike's eyes flash amber for just a second.

"Huh. I don't know. I guess not, now that I think about it. He'll probably come here, then. He knows Mom doesn't like him, so I doubt he'll go there."

"Perhaps, if he does come here first, I can convince him that Xander was over-reacting to your capture by the Initiative and I can send him on his way back without your having to interact with him at all."

"That'd be cool. Way better than me having to talk to him. Go, Giles!" She turned and walked towards the door. "Come on, Spike. We've got time to get in a quick patrol before we go into hiding..."

"I thought just Spike was going to be hiding," Giles said stiffly. "You told me you were bored staying in his crypt."

"Uh, well, yes. Yeah, that's what I meant. Spike will go hide in his crypt and I'll just go back to my dorm room... by myself." She gave Spike a sheepish smile that changed to a frown when he smirked at her. Waving at Giles, she yanked the door open and escaped into the cool night air. Spike quickly caught up to her and walked along, hands in pockets, humming an unfamiliar tune.

"Shut up!"

"Didn't say a word, pet."

"You were thinking... stuff. I could tell."

"What stuff do you think I was thinking? Hmmm?"

Buffy didn't answer, just increased her speed as she turned in to Shadyrest Cemetery. Easily keeping pace with her, Spike pressed. "What? What might I have been thinking? Afraid to tell me, Slayer?"

Buffy huffed. "As if!" 

"I think you are," he purred, stepping in front of her so abruptly that she walked right into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and murmured into the top of her head, "I think you're afraid to admit that you were thinking about coming home with me again. That you want to come home with me."

"Do not," she mumbled, even as she relaxed into his embrace.

"Do too." He lowered his head to kiss her ear, crossing her jaw line and ending near her mouth. "At least I hope you do," he breathed, brushing his lips across hers. "Because I want you to, want it so bad I can't see straight."

Before Buffy could decide what she wanted to answer, Spike's head flew up and he sniffed the air, then dropped his arms and disappeared so quickly that she barely heard his, "Later, love. Won't be far."

"Wha—huh?" Buffy whirled in circles. "Where'd you go?"

The tingles on her neck – so similar to and yet different from Spike's signature – had her pulling out her stake and peering into the darkness with narrowed eyes. However, the familiar signature, as well as Spike's abrupt departure, quickly told her what she was going to see; and when Angel finally appeared striding towards her she was already relaxed, sitting on a tombstone and twirling her stake.

"Angel!" she said, with a genuine smile. "What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"That's what I came to see," he said, glancing around with suspicion. "What's going on?"

"Did you see Giles?" She tried to deflect his question. "He was going to tell you all about it."

Angel's eyes narrowed even more. "Tell me all about what? And how did you know he was going to tell me something if you didn't know I was coming?"

"Uh..." Buffy sighed and pointed to another gravestone. "I'm sorry, Angel. I did know you were coming – Mom told us. But there's no reason for it. Really. I'm fine – as you can see. We had a little... incident... here with some sort of secret Army thingie. But Giles got the Council to look into it, and we got rescued before anything else bad happened to anybody."

Refusing her silent offer to join her in sitting on the dearly departed, he said, "When did this 'thingie' happen? Xander just called an hour or so ago."

"Yeah, about that... Hey! How did you get here so fast?"

"I have a client who owes me. He flew me up in his helicopter."

"Oh, Angel!" Buffy's dismay was real, as was her sympathetic pat on his arm. "I'm so sorry you made that dash up here for something so...." She shook her head. "I'm going to kick Xander's butt for this."

"It's no problem, Buffy," Angel said stiffly. "I'm just glad to see that you're—" He paused and pulled her hand back, holding it to his nose. He frowned and moved closer, ignoring her "What are doing?" as he inhaled the scents coming off her body.

"When was Spike here?" he snarled. "Is that why Xander called me? Because Spike was back?" He sniffed again. "He's all over you. Have you been fighting him? Did you dust him?"

"No... I... he... we..." Buffy elected to go with half-truths. "We were both captured by the Initiative. They wanted to watch us fight, so we did; then they sent in some vamps and some commandoes and we had to fight them; and then Giles showed up and we weren't prisoners anymore."

"You didn't answer me, Buffy. When did this happen? Spike's scent is fresh. Like he just... Is he watching you?" Angel glared around. "Is he holding hostages? Is that why you're trying to get rid of me? Do you need my help with Spike?"

"I don't need any help with Spike," Buffy sighed. "It's fine, Angel. Can't you just take my word for it and leave? Not that it's not nice to see you," she hastened to assure him, giving him a warm smile. "But I'm really sorry you made the trip up here for nothing."

"If Spike's back in Sunnydale, that's not 'nothing', Buffy. You remember what he was like the other times."

"I remember, Angel. I remember that I put him in a wheelchair the first time, and that he helped me when you – sorry, Angelus – tried to end the world. I remember that he didn't actually hurt Willow or Xander when he was trying to get her to do a love spell for him. I remember that I kicked his butt when he had the Gem of Amara... and... well, let's just say we've gotten to know him a lot better since the Initiative showed up and put a chip in his head."

"A chip?"

Buffy waved her hand around. "The were experimenting on vamps and demons – Spike said you stopped the Nazi's from doing something like that a long time ago? Anyway, they made it so he couldn't bite anybody and he came to us, and then Willow did a spell, and.... Well, anyway. You don't need to worry about Spike. He isn't going to hurt anybody."

"If he's so harmless, why can I smell him all over you?" He stepped closer to her and sniffed again, his eyes going wide before turning amber. Through descending fangs he snarled, "And why do you smell like you've been...."

Buffy backed up, bring her stake into a ready position as she watched Angel struggle to control his demon.

"Just so you know? That whole sniffing thing is just really gross and really, really an invasion of privacy."

Ignoring her angry retort, he said, "I'll kill him." His fangs were still visible as he spoke. 

"That could be a mite harder than you think, Angelus." Spike's voice preceded his appearance by only a moment. He stopped just beside Buffy and stared at his grandsire.

"I thought you were going to hide," she hissed.

"Tired of hiding," he said. "And more than a bit tired of watching him talk to you like you're his private property."

"She _is_ mine!" Angel snarled. "If you've touched—"

"Angel," Buffy pointed out, stepping between the two vampires. "I'm not yours. You walked away, remember? You told me to move on and have a life."

" _This_ is not moving on!" He glared at her. "This is just accepting a poor substitute for what you can't have. And you, William," he sneered in Spike's direction. "You're still taking my leavings. I'd think you'd want to look for someone who wasn't always going to be wishing you were me."

Buffy's face crumpled at being referred to as Angel's "leavings", but quickly turned to a slayer's angry mien when she saw how Spike flinched at Angel's words. Before Spike could move, Buffy was in Angel's face, punctuating her words by poking him in the chest.

"Leavings? I'm your 'leavings'? That's all I was to you? A possession?" Her pokes, which she made using all her slayer strength, had pushed Angel back several yards. As a finale, she shoved him with both hands, causing him to fall to the ground and stare up at her in astonishment. "And news-flash, Angel, I have never once wished Spike was anybody other than who he is. I didn't wish that when we were enemies, and I sure as hell don't wish it when we're—"

"Enough, love," Spike's voice was surprisingly gentle as he touched her arm. "Let me talk to him, yeah?"

" _Talk_ to him? I told you, I don't want to have to referee any fights between you two."

"Just talking. We can do that, can't we, Liam?"

Angel had sprung to his feet at Spike's approach, but allowed his face to go back to the human form that Buffy had once been so in love with. He gave her his best soulful brown eyes, but when she remained on guard and near Spike, he nodded.

"All right. Talk."

Spike looked at Buffy. "Do you trust me?" She nodded slowly. "Then let me talk to him alone." When she started to protest, he said, "He knows me, love. All I have to do is tell him... It'll be alright. I promise."

"Don't... just be careful, 'k? I don't want anybody's dust floating away tonight."

"We'll work it out."

He brushed Buffy's hand with his fingertips, then moved off into the cemetery. "Let's go, Angelus. Need to sort this out so the girl can get some sleep tonight."

Buffy stood, frowning as the two vampires walked far enough way that she could no longer hear their words, and could just barely make out their shapes in the dim light. She watched carefully, but except for some excited arm waving, she couldn't see anything to be alarmed about. They were clearly keeping their voices low enough that she couldn't hear them.

She was so busy trying to see and hear what was going on several hundred yards away, that she didn't notice the vamp sneaking up on her until she felt his drool on her cheek. Reaching behind her, she grabbed his head and threw him over her shoulder to land in a surprised heap at her feet.

"Slayer!" he said, edging away without quite standing up.

"Who were you expecting in a graveyard at night?" she asked, kicking his legs out from under him as he tried to rise. "Or did you order take-out and think I was your delivery?" Not waiting for an answer, she leaned down and drove her stake through his chest. She shook her head at his dust. "You were too stupid to last long anyway."

When she glanced back up, Spike and Angel were approaching, their steps making no sound as they passed over turf-covered mounds. They stopped when they were only a few feet away, and Buffy raised her eyebrows at them.

"Well?"

"I'll be going back to LA now," Angel said grudgingly. "But if something happens – to either one of you – " he shocked Buffy by saying, "the other has to promise to call me. I don't want to hear it from Xander, or anyone else."

"Wha—?" Buffy stared at Spike. "What did you say to him?"

"Tell you later, pet. Just get your good-byes done, yeah?"

Spike turned his back and walked away, giving the illusion of privacy even though Buffy knew he would be able to hear every word. 

"I don't—"

"It's all right, Buffy," Angel said with a sigh. "I can't go so far as to wish you well, but I'm confident you're safe with him. And that he'll... You'll be safe," he finished. "I can't believe you aren't at each other's throats all the time, but..."

Buffy coughed and shuffled her feet. "Well, I wouldn't say we never fight anymore, but now we get over it and we... make up." She hoped it was too dark for Angel to see her blush.

"Really don't want to know," he said with a wry smile. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Be safe, Buffy. And if he stops making you happy, feel free to dust him."

Buffy laughed and gazed into the face that had once been so important to her. "Somehow, I don't think you really mean that." She reached up and cupped his cheek. "But thank you, anyway."

"Take care of each other," he said, raising his voice just enough to be sure Spike could hear him. Without another word, he vanished into the gloom, quickly getting so far away that Buffy could no longer see or feel him.

She felt Spike come up behind her and she leaned into his chest when his arms went around her. "You _are_ going to explain this to me," she said, feeling her whole body relax from the tension she'd been carrying all night.

"Someday, love," he said, squeezing her tightly. "When you're ready to hear it."

 

**Chapter Twenty-One #203 Crumpled Paper**

"You _are_ going to tell me what you said to him!" Buffy's voice preceded her into the apartment, causing the people there to sit up and stare at the door. When Spike appeared behind her, holding the door open for her to sweep into the room, they all gave varyingly sincere sighs of relief and settled back in their seats.

"So, you survived the night, I see," Giles said.

"Did," Spike said shortly. "Plan to survive a lot more of them, in case any of you were wonderin'." He looked right at Xander as he spoke.

Xander jumped slightly as he was kicked under the table. He gave Anya a glare, but she pointed at Willow, who smiled sheepishly. With another glare, he stood up and walked over to Buffy and Spike. His eyes shifted back and forth between them, finally settling on a spot just over Buffy's shoulder.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shot off my mouth like that, and I shouldn't have called Angel. I'm just glad Willow got there in time to interrupt me and—"

Buffy looked at Giles. "You didn't tell him?" Giles shook his head.

"No. They just got here and I hadn't decided whether to tell them about Angel's phone calls, or to wait and see if he showed up last night."

"Oh," Buffy said, coming into the room and waiting for Spike to sit in the big chair so that she could sit on his lap. "Well, he did. He took a helicopter and got here way before we thought he would."

"So, he found you first, then?" Giles frowned. "I wondered why he never showed up here."

"He found _us,_ " Buffy said, rolling her eyes.

"And yet you both appear to be quite healthy and in one piece..."

"Yeah. It was touch and go there for a minute, but we got him to calm down, and then Spike talked to him and then he said, 'Okay' and then he left." Buffy beamed and leaned back against Spike's chest, rubbing her thumb across the arm he had draped across her stomach.

There were several minutes of incomprehensible and competing comments and questions before Giles finally held up his hand for silence. When the noise had trailed off and Spike and Buffy were facing expectant eyes, he nodded to them

"An explanation might be quite useful here," Giles said with a trace of impatience.

"That's what I keep telling him, but he's being stubborn." Buffy tilted her head back to glare at Spike who was smirking back at her. "Says he'll tell me when I'm ready to hear it, or some such crap"

" _We're_ ready to hear it," Willow said to accompanying murmurs of agreement.

"Not for your ears," Spike said easily. "Not unless and until Buffy wants to share it."

"Buffy _can't_ share it!" she growled. "Buffy doesn't know it yet."

Giles stared at them thoughtfully, then got up and began scanning his bookshelves.

"Won't find it there, Watcher," Spike said quietly. "Much as the Council of Wankers knows about my kind, they don't know everything. Some things are still between vampires."

"Actually," Giles said, still scanning the shelves, "I was looking for a small volume that Heloise has lent me. I hadn't had time to look over it before, but I suspect now might be a good time."

Spike snorted. "Like that watcher wannabe had anything but pure drivel in her 'library'."

"Not quite everything was drivel, Mr. Pratt," Giles said with a sideways glance to see Spike's response. He wasn't disappointed when Spike sat up so quickly he almost dumped Buffy onto the floor. Giles smiled and pulled a slender book from a shelf "Ah, here it is. The early research upon which the published version of Lydia Chalmer's thesis on William the Bloody was based. Written by her great-grandmother when she was working for the council as a researcher."

He grinned at Spike's paler than usual face. "It seems that Heloise and Ms. Chalmers are distant cousins who share a family interest in vampires. One specific vampire in particular..."

Buffy jumped off Spike's lap, easily breaking his limp hold on her. "Ooooh, let me see it!"

With a strangled "No!" Spike lunged for her, falling to the floor when she easily evaded his grab. The Scoobies were treated to the sight of the vampire they had feared for so long lying on his back, arm over his eyes, moaning, "Just stake me now."

"You know," Xander remarked to anyone who was listening, "ordinarily I'd be all over that, but the entertainment value of watching Spike trying to disappear into the rug far outweighs the satisfaction I'd get from staking him..."

A muffled growl was as much complaint as Spike could muster before he sat up to try to salvage something from the situation. He saw that Buffy had the book in her hands and was rapidly flipping through the pages, pausing frequently to say, "Really?" or "Seriously?" as she found something interesting.

"Com'on, love," he pleaded. "You know that silly bint – no offense, Watcher," he added as he remembered that Giles now had something of a social relationship with Professor Inkfel – "believes everything she's told. Bet old great-gramma was just the same. Books probably full of lies and exaggerations..." His voice trailed off helplessly as Buffy just raised her eyebrows at him and went back to reading.

Spike gave a resigned sigh and went back to the chair, slouching down in it and shutting his eyes, which snapped open when Buffy said, "What's this?" 

She was holding a piece of discolored paper in her hand, straining to read the faded ink upon it. 

"What is it?" Willow's curiosity was finally getting the best of her and she came up to peer over Buffy's shoulder. "It looks like some sort of poetry... What is that word there? It looks like eff...effil...eep!" She flinched at Spike reached past her and snatched the paper from Buffy's hand, then retreated to his chair, crumpling it and putting it in his pocket.

"Hey! Giles, are you going to let him do that? Isn't that, like, priceless or something?"

Not trying to hide his snickers, Giles said, "Well, technically, I suppose, it _is_ his property. Apparently he dropped it the night he was turned and one of the servants found it. No matter," he said with a broad grin, "I believe the entire text of the... poem... appears later in the book."

Finally taking pity on Spike's obvious distress, Buffy put the book in her back pocket and went back to the chair.

"Come on, Wordsworth, let's go find something nasty to slay. Something tells me you have a lot of hostility to work out tonight."

 

Several hours later, when Spike had wiped out two nests and helped Buffy stop a demon ritual of some sort, they stopped to sit on a bench near his crypt.

"Feel better?" she asked with a small smile, brushing her hand lightly over the bruise developing on his cheekbone.

"A bit," he said grudgingly. When she just continued to smile at him, he dropped his head onto the back of the bench, then rolled it toward her. "So, have you lost all respect for me now?"

Buffy shook her head. "I already knew that William was a gentleman. I just didn't know he was quite so..."

"Poncy?"

Buffy laughed. "I don't think I even know what that means – but whatever it is, I'm pretty sure you aren't it."

"William was," he admitted. "And when I'm around you, sometimes I...."

"I like your William," she confided. "He's very sweet and... loving."

"I'm not him anymore, pet. Haven't been for a very long time."

"Close enough," she whispered, sliding closer to him and nibbling on his earlobe. "I'm glad you're not really him. I like a little monster in my man."

"How about a little monster in _you"_ he replied, pulling her over to sit on his thighs facing him. 

"How about a whole lot of monster in me?" she purred, rubbing herself against him.

"Shamless hussy," he said, standing up with her in his arms, her legs wrapped around his waist.

"Disgusting pig," she retaliated. As he began walking towards his crypt, she amused herself with leaving kisses all over his neck and face. By the time they reached the double doors, they were both breathing hard. Spike yanked the outer door open, then kicked the inside one. Without stopping to close either one, he went straight to the rug covering the downstairs.

With a rueful laugh, Buffy unwrapped her legs and slid to the floor.

"As romantic as this is," she said, giving him a little shove towards the open door, "I really don't like the idea of leaving the doors open." While he ran over to close them both securely, she moved the rug and plywood from the entrance and peered down into the darkness. "I'm going to buy you a lamp," she muttered. "With a remote switch."

He came up behind and laughed softly into her ear. "But the candles are so much more romantic," he crooned. 

"There is nothing romantic about jumping into a black hole and breaking my leg," she grumbled, waiting for him to release her and go light the candles. 

Instead, he scooped her up again and dropped almost straight down, barely clearing the steep ladder. He deposited her on the bed, then pulled out his lighter. The 'snick' of the mechanism was immediately followed by a soft yellow light that illuminated the room. Spike hurriedly lit a few candles, then ran up the ladder to pull the concealing wood back into place. When he dropped back to the floor, he froze.

While he'd been working to give them light and privacy, Buffy had shed her clothes and was lying in the middle of the bed, her tanned flesh glowing gold in the flickering candlelight. Speechless, he began to take off his own clothes as he stalked toward her. He didn't pause when he reached the end of the bed, but climbed onto his hands and knees to crawl up her body until he was hovering over her.

"You look like a vision from a dream – something not of this earth and much too good for the likes of me. If I were still poncy William, I'd be composing a poem to you right now."

"Ooooh, I think I'd like that! Write me a poem, Spike."

He dropped from his hands and knees, earning a small "oof!" from Buffy, even as she put her arms around him and rubbed against his body.

"Is that a no?"

"Too bloody right it is," he growled, nestling his hips between her open thighs. "If you want poetry, I'll buy you a book."

"I want a William Pratt poem," she said with a mock pout. "Isn't that what you've got crumpled up in your pocket? A poem you wrote a long time ago?"

"Nothin' in that pocket but trash," he said. "Now can you stop talking about poetry and concentrate on what we're doing?"

"You brought it up—mmph!" Spike's lips put an end to the conversation, and Buffy forgot completely about the crumpled paper in his pocket as she fell into the kisses that she was afraid would be her undoing for the rest of her life. 

When he slipped into her, she brought her legs up and locked her ankles behind his back, meeting him thrust for thrust as they went from banter to mutually satisfying orgasms within a very short period of time. Buffy grinned when she dropped her legs and shifted her weight, causing Spke to growl, "Where do you think you're going? We're not half done yet, Slayer."

"I know that," she said, flipping them over without losing contact with his still-hard cock. "I just wanted to get a different view." She smiled down at him, marveling at the soft, gentle expression on the face that could so easily turn into a monster's frightening mien. She sat up, moaning involuntarily when the action drove him deeper and she felt him twitch. "Oh, two can play at that game," she said, beginning a rhythmic squeezing that soon had him fighting to remain in his human face.

"Let it go," she whispered, leaning down to brush her lips over his emerging canines. "Let me see you... Let me feel you...." She gasped as she felt him change inside her, suddenly thicker and more flexible than before. Spike grinned past his fangs.

"Remembered that, did you?" he asked, pushing against her interior nerves and evoking gasps and whimpers as he moved inside her. Buffy didn't answer him verbally, remaining in place and matching his invisible movements with her own powerful clenches. To an outside onlooker, it would have seemed that nothing was happening – the two nude lovers were simply enjoying a respite from more vigorous lovemaking. However, one look at Buffy's face and the ecstatic expression on it would have told a different tale. Her lower lip was clenched in her teeth and whimpers were building into louder cries. 

Beneath her, Spike was forcing himself to remain immobile while his eyes rolled back in his head and a steady stream of growled obscenities came from his throat. When Buffy finally fell forward with a small shriek, he arched up into her and roared his own release.

For several minutes they remained locked together, Buffy lying sprawled atop him while he ran his hands lightly around her back. Eventually she gave a small sigh and raised her upper body, dropping a kiss on his chest as she did so.

"Still not done," he mumbled, his limp body and closed eyes making a liar of him.

"Maybe not," she agreed, giving him a parting squeeze before she rolled off and snuggled into his side, "but I have to go to classes tomorrow, and go to my mom's to do some laundry. You can sleep all day. I can't."

He rolled towards her and nuzzled her neck. "I'm sorry, pet. I'm jus' being selfish. Forgot you've got things you need to do in the daytime. Go to sleep. I'm just going to lie here and wonder what I ever did to deserve— Gonna watch you sleep. Just in case you're a dream and you try to disappear on me."

"Don't think I've forgotten about how you got Angel to leave without major bloodshed," she said, a yawn interrupting her stern reminder. "You need to tell me what happened there. One minute you're waving your arms around, I look away to slay a stupid vamp and it's suddenly all hunky-dory and Angel is telling us to take care of each other"

"It was vampire stuff, love. Family and ritual stuff that neither one of us has ever paid much attention to – me even less so than Angelus. But we know the rules, know the rituals. He's my grandsire. I just appealed to his sense of family and fairness."

He fastened his mouth upon the skin on her neck and began to suck gently, pausing to look at the new mark he'd put on her. "I promised him something – something in the far, far future – and he agreed that I could love you for as long as you'll have me."

"There's got to be more to it than that," she grumbled, unconsciously turning her head so that he could go back to sucking on her skin. 

" 's all you need to know, love. If we ever— If it ever becomes important for you to know the rest of it, I promise I'll tell you... I promise..." He went back to the strangely soothing sucking and Buffy drifted off to sleep, if not any more knowledgeable, at least reassured that the two most important vampires in her life were not going to kill each other over her.

The end.


End file.
